


This Is Not a Drill:  Honeymoon Edition

by sabrecmc



Series: This Is Not a Drill [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha Tony, Alpha Tony Stark, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Armor Kink, Armor sex, Bonding, Bottom Steve Rogers, But in a really loving way, Coming Untouched, Crack, Deepthroating, Did I Mention Crack?, Even more ridiculous than the first one, Face-Fucking, Fluff and Crack, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Mpreg is inherently funny, Multiple Orgasms, Omega Steve, Omega Steve Rogers, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Prostate Massage, Prostate Milking, Ridiculousness, Rimming, Top Tony Stark, thigh fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-03-26 05:13:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 27,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3838426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabrecmc/pseuds/sabrecmc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve's going into Heat, so they head for the island.  Tony handles this just as well as you would expect.</p><p>If you don't read the first one, this will make even less sense.  Which is saying something.</p><p>NSFW Art by maxkennedy24 in Chapter 8<br/>Fanart by dksartz in Chapter 9</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Quite frankly, Happiness was being a bit of a stubborn ass about the whole honeymoon thing. 

“Okay, but see, I have a jet.  Jets, actually.  Plural. With food and wine and one has this pole—“ Tony started to explain, then promptly clamped his mouth shut.

“There is no reason we can’t take a regular flight just like everyone else, Tony.  We can charter a boat to the island once we get there,” Steve replied, clearly not understanding about the pole, thank God.  He suspected Steve would not approve. 

“Really, Tony. I appreciate it, but can’t we just be regular people out celebrating our Bonding?  It doesn’t have to be an exercise in extravagance, and even if it did, I think the private island probably took care of that.  It isn’t that I don’t appreciate the thought.  Really, Tony.  Well, except maybe the thing about the pole,” Steve said, looking at Tony out of the corner of his eye with a slight smirk.  Dammit.  Steve did not approve. 

“That was for in-flight safety,” Tony assured him hurriedly.

“To be fair, those stewardesses probably couldn’t have bent quite like that without it,” Steve agreed, reaching for his plate of pancakes.

“Exactly!” Tony replied happily, then caught Steve’s side-eyed look. “Wait—“

“Look, Tony, all I’m saying is that just because you _can_ spend money doesn’t mean you _should_.  Not when there’s a perfectly good alternative available,” Steve argued, because he was responsible like that. He also mended his clothes when they inevitably got torn, recycled like it was a religion and spent way too much time discussing the merits of various composts with Bruce.  How was Tony to know they meant actual teabagging?

“Fine,” Tony capitulated.  “We’ll take the commercial flight, if that’s really what you want.”

Steve looked at him for a long moment before putting his forkful of pancakes down.  “You’re just going to buy all the seats on the plane, aren’t you?” Steve questioned resignedly.  All the seats on the plane, of course.  That made so much more sense than buying the airline.  Steve was so frugal.

“Relationships are about compromise, Steve,” Tony reminded him astutely.

“Okay, yes, but you realize that’s not at all what that means,” Steve objected mildly, shaking his head and going back to his pancakes and paper.

“Yeah, see, Cap, and far be it for me to agree with Stark, but it’s maybe been awhile since you’ve flown commercial.  These days…not exactly the friendly skies up there,” Clint remarked as he stacked pancakes on his plate. 

“Those are for Steve,” Tony informed Clint, staring accusingly at the plate of pancakes.  “I sent a memo.  But Clint makes the rare valid point.”

“Clint can have some pancakes, Tony,” Steve said evenly, reaching for the sports section, though Tony grabbed it first and spread it out in front of Steve’s place at the table.  Paper cuts. Couldn’t be too careful. 

“But I made the pancakes for you,” Tony grumbled.  “Well, I paid the people who came here and made the pancakes for you.”

“Thank you.  They’re really good,” Steve told him. Tony beamed.  He was obviously having the pancake people come every day. 

Forever.

“I paid them.  The pancake people,” Tony repeated.  “With money that is mine.”

“Thanks, Tony,” Steve replied with a small smile. 

“God, is he going to get like this every time you get near a Heat?” Clint asked in what Tony felt was a bit of exaggerated exasperation.  “I saw your memo, Tony.   I saw it, because you taped it inside the fucking _vents,_ you insane, hormone-addled Alpha with jetboots!  I cannot believe this is my life.”

“Ah-ha!” Tony shouted, pointing an accusing finger at Clint.  “But see, you _did_ see it,” Tony pointed out triumphantly.  “And I’m fine.  Bruce even said this was not like the whole bonding thing.  Bagel?” he asked Steve, holding up a sesame one.  “Isn’t that right, Bruce?” Tony called.

“Yes,” Bruce shouted from across the living room where he was eating his omelet.  “This is different.”

“See? Bruce is a doctor, and he knows doctor stuff,” Tony remarked, waving to Bruce.  “And also, he got the memo,” Tony said happily because Bruce, bless him, was respecting the—okay, he wasn’t actually allowed to call it a bubble anymore because there had been words, and Clint had gotten a bubble machine and like eight gallons of dish detergent and then Steve’s face had done that frowning thing that Tony _hated_ except that it was hard not to find it adorable—anyway, maybe the restricted area? Eh, too clinical.  The Steve Zone?  That sounded nicer because it had Steve in the name, but he really didn’t relish the idea of anyone else thinking about how nice Steve’s name sounded.  

“Toast?” Tony asked Steve, shoving a plate of buttered toast Steve’s way.

“It doesn’t seem very different,” Clint grumbled, but he put down the plate of pancakes, so Tony decided to let that go and reached over to slide the plate of toast closer to Steve, just in case.  “Except he’s trying to feed him instead of fu—“

“Hey!  Steve doesn’t like that kind of language at the table,” Tony cut him off sharply.  “Also, that’s a gross misrepresentation anyway.  Technically, I want to do both.  Preferably not at the same time, but I don’t really have many boundaries right now, to be honest.”

“It’s difficult for Omegas to eat a whole lot during Heat, and with Steve’s metabolism, it will be even more of an issue, so right now Tony’s hindbrain is basically telling him to feed Cap, you know, carb him up like before a race,” Bruce yelled in explanation from the other side of the Steve Zone.  It was okay to say to himself, Tony allowed.  Steve Zone.  Steve Zone.  It really did have a nice ring to it. He’d have Jarvis throw out some explanatory graphics over the video feeds and send it to the team.  They would probably appreciate the visual.  Wow, Steve’s helpfulness was really rubbing off on him.

“Well, that’s just ridiculous,” Tony said, looking around.  “Steve happens to enjoy pancakes, okay?  This is not some ulterior motive breakfast food.”

“Really?  What’s for dinner?” Bruce called out.

“Pasta,” Tony announced happily.  “Some Breadsticks.  Fruit crepes for dessert.  You’ll love it,” Tony assured Steve.  “Power bar?  Gatorade?”

“I’m sure, and no, thanks hon, I’m fine,” Steve said, clearly trying not to smile, so Tony assumed he was pleased with the dinner plans.

“Actually,” Bruce shouted from across the room, “It is pretty normal for everyone in the family group around a Bonded Omega going into Heat to contribute.  I mean, evolutionarily speaking, it’s good for everyone to have a Bonded couple reproduce, so, you can expect people to be a bit overly solicitous for awhile.”

“Well, that’s just ridiculous,” Clint said, sliding Steve his plate full of pancakes before looking down at his empty place and blinking in confusion.  “Anyway, putting aside conjugal food groups, Cap, much as it pains me to agree with Stark, you might want to rethink this whole commercial flight business,” Clint argued.  “I mean, think about it.  Someone doesn’t share the armrest, and you’ve got Tony going ballistic at thirty thousand feet.  Not to mention, what if some pimple-faced TSA agent decides to prove they aren’t profiling by patting down Captain America? All of a sudden, the terror alert is lighting up like a nightclub disco ball because Iron Man has declared war on the TSA.  ‘Course, I’m not totally opposed to that, come to think.”

“Come on, Steve…and think about what it says that Clint and I are in agreement here,” Tony suggested. 

“Tony, come on, no–can’t we just…be like regular people? For once?” Steve replied. 

“But we aren't regular. We're you," Tony protested. "Please?”

“There’s really no reason for us to do this. We could just stay here at the Tower, anyway,” Steve said with a sigh.

 “But, Steve…” Tony pleaded.

Steve sighed heavily and looked up from his newspaper.  “Fine, but just this once.”

“Oh, dear Lord, that’s your whole fucking relationship in like seven sentences,” Clint observed, shaking his head in dismay.  “Muffin?” Clint offered hopefully.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I disavow any responsibility for this chapter. I feel the need to remind everyone that I also wrote A Higher Form of War. Please do not judge me based on this. *hangs head*

“Why does it look like Gallagher has been in my living room?” Tony asked Clint as he took in the sight of the Hulk surrounded by the detritus of what now appeared to be a good number of ex-watermelons.  Granted, this wasn’t the strangest thing that he had walked in on Clint and the Hulk doing, but it did raise some concerns.

“Well, Bruce got a into a bit of pique when the Thai food place brought Steve Pad See Ew instead of Pad Woon Sen, and so, while we had the chance, I thought it would be a good idea to give Hulk something baby-sized and crushable, just to see what happened,” Clint called out from the back of the sofa where he was perched, watching Hulk sit in the corner, cradling an oblong, green melon in his hands and peering down at it in confusion before shaking his massive head back and forth and tossing it into the far wall, splattering it into fruit shrapnel.

“What?” Tony roared, spinning around to take in the full measure of the room, eyes going wide as saucers.  “Are you telling me these are supposed to be—“

“Hey, buddy, no throwing, okay?  We talked about this,” Clint shouted across the room.  “Admittedly, so far it is a strong no on Hulk handling any baby duties,” Clint nodded agreeably. 

Tony took a deep breath and closed his eyes, counting to three like he’d promised Steve.  Three was convenient because that was exactly how long it took for the first part of the armor to arrive, but he was keeping that to himse—oh, hey, look a gauntlet! 

“First, ‘strong no’ does not cover it,” Tony began when he opened his eyes again.  “Second, oh my God, get this baby death fruit cleaned up before Steve gets down here,” Tony shouted, pointing at the bits and pieces of watermelon.  “Jarvis, seriously, I know what I said about not listening to me about anything to do with solid rocket boosters for the next couple of weeks, but I think this calls for some kind of override. Third—“

“Christ, Clint, what the hell were you thinking?” Natasha demanded as she walked into the living room. 

“Ah, come on! You’re as bad as Baby Daddy there,” Clint grumbled, nodding towards Tony.  “It was just an experiment.  For safety reasons. Think of the children, Natasha.”

“Clint, don’t be an idiot,” Natasha ground out, spreading her arms wide to indicate the watermelon-covered floor.  “Steve could slip,” she pointed out.  Then frowned and shook her head.  “Wait, that’s not—what I meant was—this was a terrible idea for a lot of reasons, wholly unrelated to Steve.  None of which I seem able to think of right now, but I’m sure there are many, many other reasons.”

“Right! Exactly!  Thank you, Natasha,” Tony bounced back on his heels, pointing at Clint.  Pure happenstance it was the hand with the gauntlet, though as far as point-reinforcement went, he was going to call that a winner. “Though, really, none of those other reasons matter.  This is a slip hazard, Barton.  Do you know how many household injuries are the result of falls?” Tony demanded.  “Me neither, okay, but it’s a lot!”

“Two weeks ago, you dropped Steve on top of giant mutant frog that was rampaging through Central Park!” Clint barked.

“He bounced!” Tony pointed out reasonably, throwing his hands up in the air.  Really, Steve had totally stuck the landing on mutant-Kermit, and unless you’re a well-dressed pig, that isn’t something you get to say very often.  It had been wildly impressive. 

“Okay, in what world is ‘He bounced’ a legitimate defense to anything?” Clint argued.

“Trampolining. Pogo-stick contests.  Bunny Hop dance-off. Jumpstyle competitions,” Tony rattled off.

 “Tony, don’t shoot Clint,” Natasha admonished. “I know we’ve all wanted to at some point, but it’ll just create a bigger slip hazard.”  Fair point, Tony mentally conceded, lowering his gauntleted hand.

Clint slowly surveyed the room.  “Look, I’m going to clean everything up.   Nat, grab me a mop and some towels, would you?  Hulk, no more smashing.  Come on, buddy, like we talked about,” Clint urged.  “Gentle, gentle—oh, no, wait, don’t squeeze!”  Clint implored, holding out his hands in an attempt at a calming gesture.  “Okay, yeah, so that’s a definite no on the Hulk Poppins idea,” Clint acknowledged as the watermelon in Hulk’s hands burst, sending seeds, rind and bits of melon across the room.

“You think?!?” Tony shouted.  “BABY DEATH FRUIT, BARTON!!!  THERE IS BABY DEATH FRUIT ALL OVER MY—“

“Hi, Steve,” Clint said, nodding slightly towards the space over Tony’s shoulder.  Tony turned slowly around, looking from his gauntleted hand to the pink and green pieces of fruit covering most of the living room.  He was a genius who miniaturized an arc reactor in a cave using spare parts. He would think of a perfectly logical explanation for this. 

Any minute now. 

Any minute.

Any. Minute.

Pretty much anything other than baby death fruit would do. 

Literally anything else.

Anything at all.

“What’s going on here?” Steve asked as he stepped out of the elevator and came to a halt, four heads swiveling towards him. 

“Don’t move!” they all shouted in unison.  Well, technically Hulk roared and hurled a watermelon into the piano, but whatever.  Steve got the point, going instantly on alert and looking around, probably for tripwires or lasers or something because he was quick-thinking like that, but really, he just needed to sit down.  Ooooh, Tony thought, grabbing a sofa cushion and tossing it to Steve, who caught it one handed.  Wow.  Pillows really did solve everything, he thought, shaking his head in satisfaction.

“Why?” Steve asked with a dubious frown.  “Are the watermelons going to…explode more?  Are they evil watermelons?  Did Edible Arrangements go super-villain?”

“Huh? Oh, no.  No, nothing like that,” Tony assured him.  He didn’t want Steve to worry. “Though with all the honeydew they put in those things, it wouldn’t surprise me.  What?  It’s a filler fruit, everyone knows that!”

“Tony,” Steve replied evenly.  “The room?  What happened here?” 

“Just Clint and Hulk,” Tony explained. 

“Doing what, exactly?” Steve pressed, taking a long look at the room. 

“Well,” Tony began loudly, before Clint could say anything.  “The good news is that they were definitely _not_ using watermelons to represent our unborn children,” Tony assured Steve firmly, nodding his head for emphasis. 

“Okaaaaaay,” Steve said.  “That…is a very strange definition of ‘good news,’” Steve replied mildly.  Steve was so trusting, Tony thought, a fond smile forming. It was really sweet.  And made lying a whole lot easier.  Only about baby death fruit, though.  Otherwise, truthfulness was really important in a relationship.

“Tony, why are you wearing a gauntlet?” Steve asked, the corners of his mouth twitching a bit.      

Tony looked down at his hand, almost in surprise.  Right.  That happened.  “I was going to vaporize the watermelons.  To help with the cleaning.  Because of the thing Clint and Hulk were doing that had nothing to do with our unborn children.  Cannot emphasize that enough,” he responded after a beat, breathing out a sigh of relief at his quick-thinking.  And Bruce said Steve’s Heat was going to affect his rational thinking abilities.  Ridiculous.  Vaporizing the melons was not only energy efficient, which Steve would no doubt appreciate, because he was very environmentally conscious, but also completely believable.  Believable was really very close to truthfulness anyway.

“We talked about shooting the other Avengers,” Steve reminded him, making Tony wince a bit.  Technically, Steve had done most of the talking on that point, but Steve was very conscientious about proper safety protocols like that.

“Wait—hold up!  You talked about Tony NOT SHOOTING US?” Clint demanded, throwing his arms wide and looking back and forth between Natasha and Hulk.  “How is everyone just okay with this?”

“Would you rather Steve _not_ talk to him about that?” Natasha asked.  “He builds weaponized metal suits three floors below you.”

“Open lines of communication are very important to the harmony of our relationship,” Tony offered.  “And also for me not shooting Clint right now.”

“I am going to clean this up, help Steve get to some type of flooring with some grip to it, and check myself into the most expensive hotel I can find—on your dime, Stark!-- until you two leave,” Clint ground out.  “Unless Steve wants me to stay?  Because I could totally stay if you needed me to, Steve.”

“It’s fine, Clint, but thanks for the offer,” Steve replied, because he was always thinking of others like that.   “We’ll be leaving for the island tomorrow, so hopefully things will get back to normal around here pretty quickly.  Alright, Tony, vaporizing this mess actually isn’t a bad idea, however much it might have been completely and totally made up on the spot.”

“Thanks!” Tony called out cheerily.  It was nice Steve was so proud of him for thinking fast on his feet.  His Omega really did appreciate his strengths. Steve was just the best, most wonderful, perfect—

“You’re mooning out loud again, Stark.  Jesus fucking Christ, I cannot take this much love and happiness at one time.  It isn’t natural,” Clint grumbled.  “Though, Steve, really, you are truly an amazing person…oh, God, someone stop me. Nat, please zap me or something, I don’t even care.”

 “I take it I’m not supposed to do with this what we usually do with pillows,” Steve said holding up the sofa cushion with what Tony assumed was disappointment, though Steve was trying to hide it behind a smile.  Such a stalwart soul.  Tony tilted his head and beamed at Steve.  It was so nice that Steve loved that part of their relationship as much as Tony did.  He had wondered about it, in the beginning.  At first, he thought maybe Steve would be uncomfortable or embarrassed, given that a Bonded Omega was, well, ready, for lack of a better term, whenever his or her Alpha was.  Tony found that highly convenient, though he suspected he shouldn’t use quite that term when discussing it with Steve. 

He’d  broached the subject once, asking if it bothered Steve that whenever Tony wanted him, Steve’s body just responded of its own accord.  He remembered because Steve had just looked at him for a long moment.  Tony huffed out a small laugh at the memory, shaking his head.  Steve had actually suggested that maybe it was the other way around, and Tony was the one who responded to Steve’s wants and needs, which was ridiculous, everyone knew that wasn’t how it worked, and Tony would have told him so, but he had been too busy unbuttoning his pants.

“Just sit on it,” Tony replied.  “But, hang onto it, maybe? For later.”  Steve sighed and dutifully put the cushion on the floor and sat down with a sigh of what Tony assumed was anticipation for later. 

“Bruce is back,” Natasha said, nodding her head to the man slowing sitting up.  “Don’t ask,” she told him, as Bruce held up his watermelon-coated hands. 

“Pretty sure I don’t want to know,” Bruce agreed. 

“Friends!  I see I have missed some kind of ritualistic rending of the fruit in celebration of our Bonded teammates happiness,” Thor announced as he stepped into the room.  “Is this meant to be a representation of your exaltation to ‘Be fruitful and multiply’?” 

Tony looked at Steve, who was hiding a smile behind his hand. 

“You going to get to work, Stark?” Clint asked as he wiped red juice off the floor.  Tony looked at the nearest pile of watermelon debris and raised his gauntlet.  Then lowered it. 

“I, uh…” Tony started.  “I don’t want to.”

“Come on, man, you can get this cleaned up in no time!” Clint pleaded. 

“I—it’s just—they’re…” Tony stammered, waving a hand in the hair. 

“Oh, good Lord, now he’s all sentimental about the freaking watermelon,” Clint grumbled.   “It’s a fruit, Stark.  It’s not a symbolic fruit.  Let it go, man.’

“Hey, you started it,” Natasha reminded Clint as she mopped up.

“I was trying to help!” Clint argued. 

“You amazingly failed,” Natasha observed, tossing a piece of rind into the wastebasket.  “Look, we’ll finish here.  You help Steve upstairs.  Sitting on the floor like that can’t be good for his back.”

Tony walked over and offered Steve his gauntleted hand to help him up, which Steve took with a slight shake of his head.  Tony wound his hand around Steve’s waist to make sure he didn’t fall or possibly cushion him if he did.   He felt Steve’s hand stroke up and down his back, something loosening inside him with the motion.  He hummed happily, leaning into Steve’s warmth. 

“Guys, guys, not in the living room, please!” Clint called.  “Though, if you wanted to in here, we could leave.  No.  Wait.  Damn it.”

“Allow them their affection, my friend,” Thor admonished lightly.  “We are celebrating tonight, are we not?”

“We are,” Steve said quietly, pressing a quick kiss to the top of Tony’s head as they wound their way through the fruit maze, sending a pleasant heat spreading through Tony’s belly, a slight buzz filling his head. 

By the time they made it to their suite, Tony had calmed down considerably.  Well, he didn’t want to shoot Clint anymore, at least.  It seemed like such effort, and Steve was here and he was running his hand up and down Tony’s spine and oh, bless him, he was still holding onto the sofa cushion.  He really was the best Omega ever.

“I’m glad you think so,” Steve huffed out around a laugh as he pushed open the door to their room.  “I’m rather fond of you, too.  You might have noticed.”  Of course he had noticed.  He noticed everything about Steve.  Steve was very noticeable like that.

Steve ushered him into the room, then tossed the pillow on the floor and sank to his knees, letting his head rest against Tony’s stomach, his arms coming up to circle around Tony’s waist.  Tony ran his hand through Steve’s hair a few times.  “You did good tonight,” Steve told him. 

“I did?”  Tony blinked. “I mean, I did.  Right.  With the…with the…”

“With the taking care of me.  With the not shooting Clint.  With the not panicking and ordering solid rocket boosters,” Steve finished for him.  Oh yeah, that.  Damn, he really had done well, he thought proudly.  “You didn’t order solid rocket boosters, did you?”

“Huh?  No, no, never occurred to me,” Tony assured him quickly. 

“Hmmm,” Steve said against his stomach, the vibration thrumming through him.  “You feel better now?”

“Of course.  You’re here,” Tony answered.  He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, him stroking Steve’s hair, Steve wrapped around him, where Tony could feel his breathing, calm and even, warming his stomach. 

Steve finally pulled away and looked up at him.  “Not that I don’t have plans for that sofa cushion, but I never actually got my Thai food, what with Hulk showing up, and by the way, you tipped the delivery guy _a lot_ ,” Steve informed him, not that Tony cared, except that apparently, Steve hadn’t eaten, which was bad because Steve hadn’t eaten and that was bad because Tony was pretty sure that they weren’t going to have sex until Steve got to eat.  And also, because eating was important, sustenance, blah, blah, whatever.  “Tell you what.  I’ll go grab some leftovers from the kitchen and we’ll picnic in bed.  How does that sound?”

That sounded like his evening was going to be very _convenient_.  Outstanding.  “Sounds good, Cap.  Grab me something too, eh?” Tony requested. 

“Will do, Tony,” Steve said, rising to his feet and pushing Tony back towards the bed until he plopped down on it.  “Stay here, okay?  I’ll be right back.”

Tony flopped back on the bed, staring at the ceiling until he heard the door snick closed.  He rolled over and disengaged the gauntlet, though tucked it on the table by the bed.  Just in case.  A lot could happen in three seconds, really.  What was even the point of counting to three?  Give the other guy a running start?  Really, schoolyard fairness had no place when it came to threats to Steve safety.  Or happiness.  Or really anything that would annoy him.  Or hunger, because that obviously meant no sex for Tony, so that was definitely—you know, counting to three was just a waste of time in the strictest sense of the phrase. 

He flipped on the TV and scrolled through the news feed, though there was nothing about Steve, so he didn’t care.  It seemed to take Steve a longer than strictly necessary time to fetch food, and just when Tony was ready to check on him, the door opened, and Steve walked in.  Tony sat up in bed, a wide, welcoming, not at all creepy, smile on his face.  

“You’re back! You’re—you’re…why are you covered in…is that flour?  Why do you have flour sacks with you?” Tony asked curiously.  Were they baking?  Did Steve want to bake?  That was going to be a bit more of a delay than Tony really wanted.  Though, those EasyBake Ovens made crap with a lightbulb in like eight minutes, he thought, eyeing the gauntlet. 

“Well,” Steve started.  “The good news is that they were definitely _not_ using flour sacks to represent our unborn children.”

Tony blinked up at him, then looked down at the bags of flour in Steve’s hand.  “Is that one wearing a onesie?”


	3. Chapter 3

Tony ran the sponge up and down Steve’s back, because flour was practically sand and could get anywhere, everyone—well, bakers, anyway—knew that, so best to be careful. 

“Thanks, Tony,” Steve sighed.  “I know they are just trying to help, but I think I saw Clint carrying a defrosted turkey down to Bruce’s lab.  I appreciate Clint’s determination, but this is making me very uncomfortable with some of our Thanksgiving plans.”

“Want me to talk to them?  Or—ooh!  You know, I still have those—“ Tony offered, sitting up a bit and sending the water sloshing over the side of the tub.

“No rockets, Tony,” Steve reiterated. 

“That was not at all what I was going to suggest,” Tony grumbled as he squeezed the sponge out and let the water dribble down over Steve’s neck and shoulders.

“What were you going to suggest then?” Steve asked with a slight smile.

“I’m thinking,” Tony replied, pursing his lips slightly.  Technically, he could achieve low orbit without actual rockets, but he suspected this was not the answer Steve was looking for.  It was amazing how well he understood Steve now that they’d had a year to really get to know each other. 

For example, Steve frowned on shooting people into space because they upset him.  Well, everyone has boundaries, Tony mused. 

“I just—I want everything to be right this time, you know?” Tony said quietly after a moment. 

Steve let out a heavy sigh, and grabbed Tony’s wrist, taking the sponge from his hand.  He shifted around in the tub so that Tony lay between his legs and started laving the sponge against Tony’s shoulders and arms.  “You didn’t do anything wrong last time, Tony.  I’ve told you a hundred times.  You had no way of knowing we would Bond.”

“A week, Steve.  A week.  You were there a week, and Fury kept prodding me to come down there, but I wouldn’t because I was being stubborn and trying to annoy him,” Tony reminded him.

“A worthy goal, we both agree,” Steve said with a grin.  Tony let out a low huff of a laugh and ran his hands up and down over Steve’s legs where they circled him in the large tub. 

“And then there was The Incident,” Tony said around a grimace.

“I wish you’d stop capitalizing it in your head,” Steve said as he squirted some shampoo into his hands.  “Besides, Camp is in custody facing a very long prison sentence for selling SHIELD’s secrets to the highest bidder.  I’d say he got what was coming to him.”

“Hmm,” Tony murmured.  Steve was very forgiving.  All things considered, he felt that was a very good quality for his mate to have.

Tony, not so much with the forgiving though.

“Sure was nice for the prosecutor to have all those documents showing the transactions and money trail right there on Camp’s computer like that,” Steve commented.

“Thank you,” Tony said agreeably, enjoying the feel of Steve’s hands massaging the lather into his scalp.  “I mean—Yes.  Yes, that was probably very helpful,” he amended quickly.

“I heard he was so overcome with remorse, he even created a website where he confessed to his crimes,” Steve continued.  Really, Steve’s faith in humanity was one of his best qualities, Tony thought.  “What was that name again?  It had such a nice ring to it. Oh, right.  [www. ISwearIWillNotTouchTonysThings .com](http://www.iwillnottouchtonysthings.com/).”

“Catchy, I’ll give him that,” Tony nodded.  He felt Steve place a light kiss on the top of his shoulder and sighed into it.  “I just want everything to be perfect this time.  You don’t—you don’t need to worry about anything.  Just, you know, relax.  And don’t think about anything.  At all.  Like stuff that Bruce said, which you shouldn’t think about.  Because I’m not.”

“Tony, we have to be realistic here.  Bruce has more knowledge of the serum and its properties than anyone out there.  This—it may not happen,” Steve said, wrapping his arms around Tony, crossing them in the center of Tony’s chest over the reactor.  “If it doesn’t, that’s nothing to do with you, Tony,” Steve said quietly, placing small, light kisses along Tony’s shoulder and the back of his neck.

“You’re trying to distract me,” Tony observed without any rancor.  “With your Omega wiles.  Again.  That’s cheating.  Or something.  Not bad-cheating, just slightly-unfair-but-God-don’t-stop-cheating.”

“Is it working?” Steve asked, continuing to plant his trail of kisses across Tony’s back.

“No,” Tony stated emphatically.  “We should probably get out of here and get to bed though.  For completely unrelated reasons, except that last time we did something that I’m definitely not thinking about in the bathtub, we swore we’d think that through a little more next time because getting out of a tub while knotted is, as it turns out, pretty much impossible, and I know we said we were never going to speak of that again, but, again, for reasons totally unrelated to what you are doing, I think I should remind you.”

He felt Steve’s chest shake against his back as he laughed lightly, then squeezed Tony tight before he stood up and stepped out of the tub.  Tony looked over at his Omega, dripping wet, reddened from the hot water and smiling down and him and realized he should probably install some handles on the side of the tub, because, let’s face it, they were probably going to forget about the thing they weren’t ever supposed to talk about again.  Hell, he could barely remember it now.

Tony let Steve help him out of the tub, then promptly plastered himself against Steve’s chest.  Steve ran his hand up and down Tony’s spine, and he felt himself instantly relax, limbs going liquid, head clearing to a pleasant thrumming that matched Steve’s heartbeat, leaving Tony somewhat breathless and almost lightheaded.

Could also be because all the blood in his body had pretty much gone to one destination. 

“I—I just.  I need to make you happy,” Tony heard himself say against Steve’s chest.  He felt the knuckles scraping up and down his spine stutter a bit, then continue, harder now, more insistent. 

“You do, Tony.  Nothing that happens—or doesn’t happen—on the island is going to change that,” Steve assured him.  “Hey, listen, if you want, tomorrow, you can tweak those rocket schematics that I know nothing about.”

“It’s just a contingency plan,” Tony promised hurriedly as they walked toward the bed.

“I know it makes you feel better,” Steve said, pulling Tony down to the bed.  “Though, I swear to God, if we go down to breakfast in the morning and Clint has that Butterball in a Baby Bjorn, I just might plug the rockets in myself.”

“Okay, first, that’s adorable.  But, I really can’t go to sleep with the idea of plugging rockets in just floating out there in the universe,” Tony said as he tucked a pillow behind Steve’s head.  “Besides, I thought we settled on the Ergo carrier?  Should we have gone with the Bjorn?  Did it get better reviews?  Dammit, Jarvis, was there a recall?”  Tony demanded loudly, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration.  “Oh, right.  You had a different point. I see that now.”

Steve bent his head down to nuzzle the side of Tony’s neck, then pressed his mouth to Tony’s.  A moment later, Tony heard soft laughter against his check.  “You’re going to have to check now, aren’t you?” Steve questioned lightly.

“Just, you know, like maybe Amazon.  And Consumer Reports.  And Parenting.  Though, really, can you trust them or are they in the pockets of their advertisers?”  Tony wondered out loud.  “You know, why don’t, uh, why don’t you just rest.  You rest here, and I’ll—I’m just going to---I mean, the thing is, you should rest and I need to—I should--“ Tony stuttered.

“It’s fine, Tony. Really.  Go make the world’s best baby carrier,” Steve chuckled, scrubbing a hand over his face. 

“I still have some Kevlar left over from your last suit.  How do you feel about a slightly militant Winnie the Pooh pattern?” Tony asked. 

“As long as you make Eyeore green and really brassed off about anyone messing with his tail, I’m good,” Steve replied evenly.

“Obviously,” Tony agreed.  “I’ll—it’ll be better—me, I mean, I’ll be better—if I’m doing something,” Tony admitted, looking furtively over at Steve.  “I just—I worry. Because it should be perfect for you, and it might not be and there isn’t anything I can do about that, and I’m not—I’m not very good at dealing with that.”

Steve studied him in the dark silence of the bedroom, then pulled him close, cupping Tony’s face in his hands.  Tony brought his hands up to circle Steve’s wrists, rubbing gently over the skin at his wrist as he did.  “Tony, however we have a family, that will be the perfect way,” Steve said quietly.  “Because it will be our way.”

“Because you’re perfect,” Tony replied quickly.

“Because our lives are messy and insane and loud and nothing even close to perfect, and none of that stops us from loving each other completely and irrevocably, and _we_ are perfect,” Steve corrected.  Tony blinked and looked down. Damn flour in his eye.  Stupid Clint.  He was probably going to need to bathe Steve again.  Ah, bless Clint.  Next to Steve, Bruce, Thor and Natasha, he really was Tony's favorite. “I’ll bring some coffee and food down to the lab, how about?” Steve offered after a pause.

“Sure.  Sure,” Tony replied.  “Probably not turkey though,” he finished with a scowl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I must have needed my happy-fix after writing some angst for my Thank You Fics. This ended up way fluffy. 
> 
> Good news! Almost to the island. Sex is coming (heh. God, I have the sense of humor of a 12 year old boy. And I mean that in the nicest possible way).


	4. Chapter 4

Tony’s first thought when he woke the next morning was that his head was clearer than it had been in days, though he quickly realized that wasn’t exactly the right word for it. He was…centered. Yes, that was it. Like whatever had been keeping him off-kilter the past few days had gathered itself and coalesced, and he could finally think through things beyond just keeping Steve happy, healthy and safe. He hadn’t been that bad since they first Bonded, he thought with a slight frown, a time which Clint liked to remind him of at every turn just because he’d apparently nixed sex on Fury’s conference table because of an unfortunate lack of pillows. Honestly, Tony didn’t see why Clint couldn’t just let that one go. Still, it was good to have his head clear again, so he could focus on what needed to be done.

Which was obviously keeping Steve happy, healthy and safe.

Tony lifted his head from Steve’s shoulder, where he’d had it buried in the crook of Steve’s neck while they slept, and slowly pushed himself up onto his elbows to look down at his mate, feeling the familiar swoop and pull in his stomach when he looked at Steve. Maybe it was hormones, years of evolution coming to the fore, Bruce would probably be able to tell him, and God knew he’d been bugging Bruce for the past few months with questions in preparation for this, because it was going to be perfect, dammit. _He_ was going to be perfect for Steve this time. He didn’t think it was all hormones though, the way he liked to make Steve laugh or the weird sense of pride he got when Steve met his arguments with adorably wrongheaded ones of his own or how it made him feel like he could move worlds when Steve offered him unconditional trust like it was something he deserved and not something he had to earn.

Steve stirred beneath him, eyes fluttering open. He stared up at Tony for a moment, and Tony expected the small smile and long, light strokes up and down his back that usually greeted him in the morning. For all Steve’s initial confused exasperation with Tony’s desire to use himself as half-blanket, half-human shield at night, it was Steve who would pull Tony on top of him now, brushing his hands through Tony’s hair and lacing their hands together, and Steve who admitted to sleeping with Tony’s pillow on top of him on the rare occasion when Tony was away. So, Tony was a bit surprised when Steve almost immediately dropped his gaze, then began gently rubbing one cheek and then the other across Tony’s shoulderblade.

“Steve?” Tony said against the top of Steve’s head. Steve drew back and his eyes snapped to Tony’s, then immediately dropped down again. Huh. That was…oh. _Oh_.

“Steve,” Tony repeated, this time more forcefully. Steve dragged his eyes to Tony’s again, then Tony felt Steve’s whole body shudder once underneath him, almost as if it took that much effort to keep his eyes focused on Tony’s.

“Alpha,” Steve rasped, low and hoarse and filled with something like wonder, and fuck if that didn’t go straight to Tony’s cock, like the word itself entered his body. He could feel it rattling around, coiling and tightening inside him.

“Good. Good, Steve,” Tony soothed, bringing a hand to the back of Steve’s head to press it against his shoulder again. Steve’s body sagged in relief, muscles going languid beneath him as the tension seeped out. No wonder he’d woken feeling centered, Tony realized. His calculations had said they’d have a little more time before they reached this stage, but who the hell knew how the serum affected things? Which meant he needed to get up and get himself going so they could get to the island before Steve’s Heat really hit. And he was going to do that. Any minute now. Really.

Any minute.

Definitely going to happen. It was just…it felt so good, not just Steve’s body moving under him, rubbing against him in an effort to mark himself with Tony’s scent, though, okay, sure that felt great. It was…God, fuck, that felt great. There was some other thing, too, but who the hell cared? Tony could feel Steve’s cock hard against his stomach already, the tip leaking slightly, leaving a wet trail where it brushed over Tony’s skin. Steve’s hips began moving, rhythmic, insistent little thrusts against Tony’s thigh, his hands gripping Tony’s back, but not stroking or attempting to calm like he usually did, just holding on, as if he needed the anchor.

Tony heard a low, rumbling noise and realized it was coming from him. He placed a hand lightly, but firmly on Steve’s hip where it rutted against him, and Steve immediately stilled, looking up at Tony once more, briefly, before dropping his eyes again, but it was enough. This, Tony thought. This is what the other thing is, why he felt so centered this morning, so sure. The way Steve looked at him---he couldn’t put it into words what it was, not exactly. Trust and love and devotion and all those things, but like they had been strained and distilled to their purest form where nothing else could touch them.

For the next two days or so, he would be Steve’s world. Even with the Bond, it required so much trust from an Omega to allow this, he knew, and for someone like Steve, a natural leader, to offer to place this kind of faith in Tony, that Steve would choose to share this with him instead of taking the suppressants the modern world offered or just taking care of himself on his own was probably the most terrifying, humbling and amazing thing he’d ever known. This was…this was…his mind grappled for the right word, for any word that could possibly begin to describe what this was…this was _purpose_ , his mind finally settled on, the act of being able to at least name it, to begin to comprehend it, was enough to settle him.

This was his purpose, and it was so clear, so very clear—it was pure, and true and right, he thought, and maybe for the first time understood what that really meant. Steve, their family, if they got to have that, the team, what they could do together, this was what mattered, not the right foods or right kind of towels or all the pillows in the world—well, those were actually fairly important, come to think. But, point being, this, this thing that welled up between them and existed as if it had a space of its own and made them more than what they had been before…this was purpose, his purpose, _their_ purpose, and it should probably terrify him, this knowledge, this certainty that the best possible version of each of them was the one where they loved the other, but all he could feel was a sense of peace, like everything before had been preparation for the chance to know this.

“Okay,” Tony managed, sounding shaky even to his own ears. “Okay, I’ve got you.” Steve nodded into his shoulder, grinding his forehead against the bone there, then arched his neck and twisted his head to the side in invitation. Steve’s eyes were squeezed shut, his face a mask of want and need, a fine sheen of perspiration glistening over his skin following a warm flush that was creeping down over his chest, pebbling his nipples. Tony leaned down and kissed the spot where the corded muscle of Steve’s neck met his shoulder, then let his tongue dart out to taste the damp skin there.

Tony took Steve’s rock hard cock in his hand, and heard him whine, but Steve didn’t move. He wouldn’t, not now, not when Tony had asked him to keep still. Tony stroked Steve’s cock once, letting his thumb trace the sensitive skin just under the head. He felt an answering rush of liquid wet his hand, then bent his head again to the spot at the base of Steve’s neck and bit down. Hard. He held the flesh in his mouth a moment, savoring the salty, vaguely coppery taste, and felt Steve’s cock spasm in his hand as he came, spending himself into Tony’s hand. Tony waited until Steve finished, then released his mouth, flattening his tongue over the rough row of indentations from his teeth to take away the sting. It would leave a mark, though not for long with the serum, but it still filled him with a possessive sense of accomplishment at seeing it there. Particularly since Steve still objected to just wearing a sign that said “Tony’s” on it.

A whole new uniform down the drain on that one, Tony recalled. He’d even done it in red, white and blue instead of red and gold. It wasn’t like he was unwilling to consider compromise.

Steve was panting, shallow little breaths, his heartbeat skittering in Tony’s ear as he lay his head over Steve’s chest, still cradling Steve’s cock with one hand. “You did good, so good for me, Steve,” Tony told him as he looked down, running the fingertips of his other hand lightly up and down Steve’s side in soothing trails. “You’re beautiful.”

“That’s my dick, Tony,” Steve said blandly.

“I know, I just really like it,” Tony replied with a contented sigh. Steve snorted, but didn’t object.   “Are you hungry?   Of course, you’re hungry. Stupid question. Let’s get you something to eat,” Tony said, slowly peeling himself off of Steve and standing up on somewhat wobbly legs. They dressed, though Tony insisted on a V-neck for Steve because of reasons. Well, because Steve probably wouldn’t go for a tube top, however good he’d look in one.

By the time they made it down to the kitchen, Natasha and Clint were already at the table, burning through the crepes and French toast Tony had made. Ordered. Paid for, whatever. They both glanced up when Tony walked into the room, Steve following closely on his heels.

“Morning,” Natasha said, though it was directed only at Tony. Neither Clint nor Natasha actually acknowledged Steve, and for a flash, it was jarring, the difference from yesterday, but then his mind caught up. Of course they wouldn’t say anything to Steve. Tony had only seen maybe one or possibly two Omegas this close to a Heat, but he remembered the weird feeling of almost noticing something, then realizing it had passed by and you’d missed it.

The cultural taboo against directly looking at or speaking to an Omega at this stage of their Heat was some vestige of a time when they all had to pack themselves in caves to avoid being eaten by things with big, sharp teeth, and this was the only way to grant the Omega some privacy and probably avoid a bunch of Alphas clubbing each other to death. Steve bumped against his back when Tony came to a halt, then showed no inclination to move away. Tony couldn’t help but relish it a bit, the way Steve sought him out, wanted to be close to him, to his scent. Sure, that too was a throwback, but it was nice. Reassuring. Comforting.

Extremely fucking hot.

Bruce padded into the room, stretching out the kinks in his back as he made for the coffee machine. He jarred to a stop, then looked up at Tony and slowly backed out of the room. “I’ll just be in the lab,” Bruce informed them.

Tony nodded. That was so considerate of Bruce, Tony thought as he stepped around the Mark Twenty-Seven, tugging Steve behind him. Bruce was really so thoughtful. “Sentry mode,” he told the armor. Just in case. You never knew. Couldn’t be too careful and all that.

After all, something could happen.

“I’m trying to eat here,” Clint grumbled, jerking his head towards the armor. “I don’t like it watching me. I feel like if I try to take the syrup, it’s going to shoot me.”

Tony handed Steve a plate stacked high with food and a cup of coffee. “Well, don’t take Steve’s syrup,” Tony said reasonably. Honestly, a few simple household rules. Were they really so hard to follow?

“You know what? I’m just going to go eat in my room. ‘Tash?” Clint asked by way of invitation.

“Right behind you,” Natasha said, scooting her chair back and grabbing her plate as she followed Clint out of the room, but not before giving Tony a quick nod and smile on her way out. Steve was still eating with quiet efficiency, eyes focused on his plate, shoulders hunched inward as if he could somehow make himself less noticeable that way.

“What’s it like? The whole…” Tony waved his hand towards the empty space where Natasha and Clint had disappeared. “Ignoring you thing? Kinda strange after all the completely deserved attention lately.”

“It’s not…it’s not like being ignored. Not really. Being ignored is when you want the attention, and this…it’s…calmer. Easier. Freeing in a way. I don’t have to think about what they think or how they see me or worry about what my body’s doing. I can just be. You—you’re—you’re here, so you’ll…you’ll see me, and that’s enough,” Steve said haltingly, as if trying out the words for the first time. “I don’t know how to explain it. I just need you to see me, and that’s—that’s comforting, like its keeping me together somehow, but anyone else…it’s just too much right now.”

“Steve,” Tony said evenly. Steve pulled his eyes from the table to look over at Tony sitting next to him, though Tony could see the effort it took. “I see you. I will always see you. Sometimes, I know you think you’re all I see, but that’s not it, not really. It’s more…it’s backwards. I don’t know how to explain it either. Everything I see is you. You’re like this filter that I process the world through, and everything just…it’s brighter. Better. I can’t—I can’t—it’s clear. It’s just clear. And that’s you, because it sure as hell isn’t me.”

Steve dropped his gaze and bowed his head slightly, and it was the most beautiful and terrifying thing Tony had ever seen. Tony wrapped one hand around the base of Steve’s neck, massaging his thumb over the mark he’d left earlier. He felt a tremor shake through Steve’s body and placed a long kiss to the top of his head. “Not that, as an Alpha, I don’t appreciate the gesture, it’s fantastic and all, but I do miss seeing you look at me,” Tony urged.

“I try,” Steve sighed. “When you ask me to. It’s just when I look at you, I mostly want to get on my knees and beg you to fuck me.”

Tony blinked down at him, eyes wide while his mind tried to run fast enough to catch up to his dick. “So, breakfast is over,” Tony said quickly, standing up from the table so fast his chair toppled over behind him and his thighs banged against the top, making the dishes jump and clang loudly. “Plane?”

“Please,” Steve replied, rubbing his hands up and down along his thighs.

“Steve?” Tony called, looking down at him.

“Yes, Tony?” Steve asked carefully.

“Look at me,” Tony said.

Steve stopped his agitated motions and sighed heavily. “I knew I shouldn’t have told you that.”

Tony grinned. He really, really loved the clarity that came with having a purpose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading and enjoying this little bit of insanity. They do finally make it to the island next chapter. It is partially written and pretty much all porn. Go me. I intend to do a Steve POV after that and then probably a final chapter of some kind to wrap this one up. 
> 
> If you are interested, there is a Steve POV for their first meeting from the earlier story in my Thank You Fics.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note the updated tags. All of them. *snort*

Tony stared down at his suitcase in consternation, then grabbed one more pillow and stuffed it in one of the corners. He was almost certain the island had plenty. He’d been pretty specific with his decorating order, after all, but you couldn’t be too careful.

“Is that what you’re planning on taking?” Steve asked with a slight frown from behind him. Clearly, not enough pillows, Tony thought to himself. Damn. Tony grabbed another one and hugged it to him to try to get the air out and smiled reassuringly at Steve. He seemed to have all the essentials. Had he forgotten something?

Steve was looking down into Tony’s suitcase, shifting the contents around here and there. “You have three boxes of Power Bars, two canisters of electrolyte mix, six bottles of sunscreen and two—okay, now three—pillows,” Steve observed mildly. Steve did so love his little lists, Tony thought fondly. So organized. “You know I can’t really get sunburned. Serum,” Steve reminded him.

“Steve, skin cancer is cumulative,” Tony informed him with a knowing nod. “Here, I made a flashcard for you,” Tony replied proudly, holding up the laminated card.

“You…made a flashcard. About skin cancer,” Steve repeated in confusion, frowning down at the card Tony was holding out to him.

“Um-hmm,” Tony nodded. “And ones on sharks, dysentery, yellow fever, jellyfish, all water-based or water-powered supervillians, which, good news, surprisingly short list, given how much of the planet is covered in water,” Tony assured him. “And, well, a few other things,” Tony said as he handed Steve the stack of cards. “To be fair, I think Clint put the suggestion about sand fleas in as a joke, but, they can cause skin irritation and—well, it’s all on the card. Anyway, I think we have everything we need, so let’s get on the jet.”

“Tony, you know you didn’t pack any clothes, right?” Steve said, wrapping his arms around Tony’s middle and peering over Tony’s shoulder.

“Like I said, everything we need,” Tony replied with a shrug, snapping the suitcase closed and zipping it up. “Shall we?” Steve nodded slowly, gaze flicking to Tony’s before dropping again, and, of course now that Tony knew what was going through Steve’s head, he couldn’t think of anything else. Why would he want to? Honestly, protecting the planet could take a fucking number.

Steve picked up his own suitcase and followed behind Tony to where the Quin-Jet waited on the launching platform. The ride to the island was smooth and relatively uneventful. Tony thought Steve must like the changes he’d made to the jet’s interior, since Steve had smiled with what Tony assumed was delight upon seeing the sofa and stacks of pillows that now occupied the jet’s interior. Who need parachute and emergency life-raft storage anyway? Waste of space. Steve sat down on the sofa and went through his flashcards with his usual careful attention while Tony piloted the jet off the platform and into the air. Steve was so diligent, Tony thought as he cast a quick look over his shoulder to see Steve’s brow furrowed over what appeared to be a flashcard for ‘hurricane—not the drink (see separate flashcard regarding mixing of liquors).’

He wasn’t sure how long it took exactly for a nervous sort of twitchiness to settle over him, being this far from Steve, like some kind of current of energy was running back and forth beneath his skin, his heartbeat throbbing with a mantra that something could happen. He focused on flying the jet, checking the various readouts, running a few diagnostics to distract himself until he just couldn’t take it anymore. He cleared his throat loudly. “Nice view from up here. By me. Where the view is. Right here,” Tony pointed out.

“It says here I’m supposed to hit the shark on the nose…” Steve read as he came to sit next to Tony in the co-pilot’s chair.

“Only if for some reason, I’ve been rendered unconscious and can’t replusor it. Honestly, there’s an asterisk, Steve, see?” Tony pointed.

“Ah. I see that now. Yes, that makes punching the shark make so much more sense now,” Steve replied, nodding his head and tapping a finger lightly against his lip. They sat like that in a charged sort of silence for some time, until Tony thought his skin was going to rattle off his bones if…if something. He wasn’t sure what it was, exactly, but he needed it with an almost scary sort of desperation.

“Look at me,” Tony whispered hoarsely.

“Behave,” Steve admonished without looking up from the flashcard, but it lacked any real sting to it.

“Maybe I’m making a funny face,” Tony tried. “I could be. You don’t know.”

“I’ll just have to find some way to suffer through my ignorance,” Steve said, studying the card for Volcanic Eruption with interest. “Here,” Steve said, taking Tony’s hand and bringing it to the curve of his neck. “You’ll crash us into the ocean if I look at you right now.”

“I have a flying suit. I’m sure I’d save us before we actually crashed. I know this jet is technically one of a kind, but I honestly don’t give a fuck,” Tony replied.

“I know,” Steve said with a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“You like that all I can think about is you,” Tony accused with nothing short of delight. He rubbed his thumb over the small mark at the curve of Steve’s neck, feeling the indentations his teeth had left in Steve’s skin that morning. It was…pleasing. He wasn’t sure why, exactly, but it seemed to take some of the jittery energy away, just to feel it, to know that Steve was his, that everyone knew that, and here was the proof, because only Tony got to do that, to claim him, mark him as his. _Mine_ , Tony thought, pressing down slightly as he rubbed. Steve hummed contentedly and set the flashcard for Aggressive Dolphins aside.  

“Yours,” Steve said, voice slightly thick and slurry. Then he smiled almost to himself and dropped out of the chair and kneeling in the space next to Tony’s seat, keeping his head bowed to the ground, but there was a subtle difference to it, an intimacy that hadn’t been there before, like an invitation. Tony couldn’t have looked away if Loki and Hulk had been making out in the back of the jet. Well, okay, he amended. _Maybe_.

“Yes, I like that you can barely think of anything but me. Of course, I like that, Tony. You’re my Alpha. It’s…comforting. I’ve never had this before. Every time I’d get ready for my Heat, it was always a chore to prepare and figure something out, but now…I don’t have to worry about anything. You’re going to take care of me, and I know it’s going to feel…pure. And true. And right. And I want that,” Steve whispered almost brokenly. Tony raised a hand to settle on Steve’s shoulder, then ended up carding his fingers through the fine, blonde strands of Steve’s hair instead, stroking back and forth the way Steve did up and down Tony’s back to comfort him. “It seems like I’ve been waiting for that my whole life. You don’t know what it’s like, when you’re an Omega. Everyone wants you because they know you’ll make them feel good, but when I look at you, all I see is you wanting me to feel good.”

“Of course I want you to feel good,” Tony said with a deep frown. “That’s the…that’s my purpose. I figured it out when I was biting you and jerking you off this morning,” Tony told him. “It was very clarifying.” Steve huffed out a low laugh and let his head sink to Tony’s thigh for a moment, just resting there. Tony stroked his hand through Steve’s hair and down his neck, over the mark, over and over, watching the horizon get closer as the afternoon sun rose in the sky.

Steve righted himself at the sound, blinking a bit as if dazed, then gifted Tony with a quick, furtive look before he sat back and pulled his shirt over his head. “Oh, thank God, I thought we were going to talk more,” Tony said with abject relief, then stopped and stared for a moment, a wide grin breaking out over his face. “You’re wearing it!” Tony crowed with delight.

“I thought you’d like it,” Steve said, glancing up at Tony long enough to catch his eye before letting his gaze dip to the floor again.

“I’ve never wanted you more,” Tony replied honestly, taking in Steve wearing the shirt he’d conspired with Jarvis to make, proclaiming ‘I’m Steve. I’m Tony’s Omega. We’re bonded.’ Tony could just see the fading blue of the bruise at the curve of Steve’s neck, and fuck if that wasn’t hot as hell, his Omega bearing his mark, on his knees before him, eyes downcast and head bowed. True, he always wanted Steve, but the ferocity of it now was startling. It was an almost blinding, overwhelming need to please, to take care of Steve, to see him happy, this purpose that he had somehow been gifted with. Steve was happiness. Steve was Tony’s happiness, and for some reason Tony still couldn’t quite fathom, Steve looked at Tony and saw his own.

“Jarvis, ETA to the island?” Tony called out, hearing his voice rise with urgency.

“We shall begin our descent momentarily, Sir,” Jarvis responded.

“Thank God,” Tony muttered. By the time they landed next to the house, Tony was practically bouncing to get out of his seat and get Steve inside, almost like he was the inverse of Steve, who seemed to be getting progressively calmer with each passing moment. There was a languid sort of sluggishness to Steve’s movements that was new, like everything took a great deal of effort. Bruce would probably explain the effects of the Heat and need to conserve resources or something, but it was incredibly appealing, Tony thought, watching Steve stand as if the movement took too much energy.

Tony reached out and took Steve by the hand, gently guiding him towards the ramp. He stopped to grab his suitcase, figuring that he could get Steve’s later. It probably had boring, useless stuff like clothes, anyway.   “So, here we are,” Tony said, swinging his suitcase in the direction of the sprawling house.

“It’s great, Tony,” Steve murmured.

“You’re not even looking,” Tony pouted.

“If you’re here, it’s great,” Steve replied. Oh. Well. Okay, then, Tony thought. He never quite knew what to do when Steve said these things to him, though he did it regularly enough that it shouldn’t be unexpected, not anymore, yet each one caught him by surprise. What he felt for Steve always seemed so close to the surface, threatening to bubble over at any moment, and Steve…Steve was his rudder, keeping him on an even keel. Well, most of the time, anyway. Not even Steve’s superpowers extended quite that far. But the point was, loving Steve was the easiest thing he’d ever done. It just existed, like air, requiring no effort on his part, but it was always there, surrounding him, present in the most real way possible. He just assumed loving him had to be a lot harder for Steve, and counted himself lucky that Steve thought he was worth the effort, but then Steve would say something or look at him a certain way, and Tony would be amazed all over again at the thought that maybe, just maybe, it was as effortless for Steve.

“I’m here,” Tony managed, finding the words surprisingly difficult to muster at the moment. Tony took one look at Steve and decided to save the big tour for at some point in time when he wouldn’t rather have Steve on all fours. So, probably never. Who cared about kitchens and living rooms anyway? He wasn’t sure why he’d even had those put in.

Tony tugged Steve along into the house and kicked open the door of the bedroom, dropping the suitcase as soon as they were inside. Steve leaned back against the closed door, eyes closed, breathing through his nose with no small amount of effort. There was a light sheen of perspiration on his skin, making it glow, and his cheeks were high with color.

“Tony,” Steve called out, then opened his eyes, looking directly at Tony for the first time in what seemed like an eternity. The impact was nearly enough to send Tony to his knees, something heavy seeming to knock the breath out of him.

He braced a hand on the wall and swallowed down gulps of air, but kept his gaze on Steve’s, refusing to break the eye contact now that he had it. Tony’s moved to stand in front of Steve, drinking him in for a moment. Steve let out a low little moan of pure need, his throat working convulsively around the sound, but otherwise stood motionless. Tony leaned forward and captured Steve’s mouth, feeling Steve’s warm sigh against his lips. Tony let his hand slide off the wall and cupped Steve’s chin, using his thumb to nudge Steve’s mouth to part. As soon as it did, he swiped his tongue inside, delving deep, then moving it against the side of Steve’s tongue, back and forth, then flicking it against Steve’s as he slanted his mouth to the side. Steve’s body vibrated with a thrumming groan that seemed torn from his chest as Tony cupped a hand on either side of his face, Steve’s own hands coming to wrap around Tony’s wrists and hold him there. Tony finally pulled back, trailing his tongue over Steve’s bottom lip before withdrawing.

“I love you,” Tony whispered urgently. “Love you so much, Steve,” he said, letting his hands fall to Steve’s neck to tug their foreheads together.

“Love you, too, Tony,” Steve replied, lifting his head enough to place a quick kiss on the tip of Tony’s nose. “I want you to know how much. Let me show you. Please,” Steve added, sounding nervous, but there was an eagerness under it that made Tony’s breath catch in his throat. “Let me.”

Tony nodded, his hands moving reflexively to the button of Steve’s pants. He made quick work of peeling them and Steve’s boxers off while Steve toed off his shoes. Tony saved the shirt for last, picking carefully at the hem, fingers curling around it as he let his knuckles brush against Steve’s stomach, then higher as he pulled the fabric over his head, leaving Steve standing naked before him.

“I know it’s traditional…” Tony started, looking over his shoulder at the bed.

“Tony, of course, you don’t have to,” Steve interrupted. “I can walk just fine. It’s not a big deal. Really,” Steve assured him quickly.

“Oh, ye of little faith, old man,” Tony said with a smile, then bent to pop open his suitcase. He removed a smaller briefcase and clicked the locks open, engaging the armor. It wove around him, enveloping him in red and gold metal while Steve watched, eyes wide, mouth going slack, so Tony counted it as a win. “Ta-da!” Tony announced when the armor was in place. “You didn’t think I was going to miss out on all the bells and whistles of your Heat, did you?”

Steve wasn’t exactly the typical Omega, all dainty and small, but still. No way Tony was going to forego one of the main rituals, let alone allow Steve to miss out on it during their first Heat as a Bonded couple. Plus…just the idea of it was enough to get his blood racing through his veins, mostly to a southern destination. Tony let the faceplate snap down, the HUD immediately activating to pull up Steve’s vitals as it was programmed to do.

Huh. Well. _That_ was certainly interesting.

Steve’s respiration and heartrate were elevated rather significantly over what was normal for him. His core body temperature was up as well. Tony didn’t need the HUD to see the other, rather obvious, effects. Steve’s pupils were dark and wide, his gaze fixed on Tony, and his cock was hard, jutting out in the space between them. Tony moved forward and braced a gauntleted hand on either side of Steve.

“You like this,” Tony said in wonder, his slightly mechanized voice echoing in the room. Steve managed one slow, careful nod, through some kind of supreme effort, and took a deep, shuddering breath, his whole body seeming to quake with the motion.

“ _Alpha,”_ Steve breathed out, wide eyes roaming over the armor as his cock rose to stand against the curve of his stomach. Steve stepped forward on somewhat wobbly legs and wrapped his arms around Tony, burying his head in the crook of Tony’s shoulder. “When I first saw you, you were like this,” Steve whispered. “Shiny,” Steve huffed out a low laugh. “I thought you were beautiful. Wanted you then. Wanted to touch you, feel you. Wanted to be yours.”

“Well, why the hell didn’t you say something? God, you were so annoyingly reasonable about things,” Tony grumbled, his hands tightening around Steve’s waist.

“I thought you wouldn’t want me once you were…you again. I was trying not to take advantage of the situation,” Steve murmured, words coming out thick and slow.

“Okay, name one time when I have not wanted you to take advantage of me! When has that happened? Never, that’s when! Please, for the love of all things good and holy, take advantage of me,” Tony pleaded. “You idiot,” he finished fondly.

He reached out and hooked one arm under Steve’s and the other behind Steve’s knees, cradling him to his chest. Steve sighed and pressed the side of his face against the cool metal of the armor as Tony carried him to the bed, setting him gently down on top of the comforter. Steve was staring up at Tony, his body slack and pliant, almost boneless as Tony arranged him on the bed. Tony pressed Steve back against the bed, then pushed his legs up and apart so Steve was spread open beneath him. He shifted position a bit so that he was kneeling below Steve’s spread legs, watching the way Steve’s cock was dripping pre-come into the pool of his navel, a delicate flush spreading over Steve’s skin as Tony observed him. The HUD was giving him all kinds of readouts, none of which were nearly as interesting as the sight before him.

Tony let his hand glide down over Steve’s chest, just barely skimming the warm skin there with the metal fingers of the gauntlet. Steve’s cock was laying against his stomach, rigid and red with blood, the large vein on the underside standing taut. Tony traced the hard length with his finger as Steve’s whole body was wracked with shudder, like his skin was suddenly too tight around his bones and he was trying to shake out of it.

“Alpha,” Steve repeated, a raspy, choked sound. Steve’s hole had already started to loosen, Tony noticed, and a slight sheen to it indicating that it wouldn’t be long before his full Heat hit. He carefully rubbed along the puckered rim around Steve’s hole and watched as a thread of slick fluid leaked out onto the red metal of his fingers. Tony couldn’t resist pressing one slick, metal finger inside, rubbing gently at the inner walls of Steve’s passage as Steve let out a long, thrumming groan and threw an arm over his face. Tony leaned up and took Steve’s wrist, bringing his arm down to his side and pressing it against the bed.

“Want to see you,” Tony said firmly, watching with satisfaction as Steve dragged his eyes up to return Tony’s gaze. He rubbed two fingers up and down the crack of Steve’s ass, gathering the slick that had dripped from Steve’s entrance, then pushed them all the way inside in one swift motion. Steve gasped, his back arching against the bed as he dug his hands into the comforter and held on while Tony carefully pumped the gauntleted fingers in and out.

“Alpha,” Steve rasped again, voice thready and desperate with need.

“It’s too soon for me to knot. We should wait,” Tony said automatically. They really should wait. That was the sensible thing to do, no question about it. He didn’t want to tire himself out too quickly, and it was entirely too soon to knot. Hell, even Steve’s body could only handle so much, and they had a long way to go. Definitely best to wait. No reason to rush into things.

“Please,” Steve whined. “Please. Want you inside me.” It really wasn’t his fault that Steve could make such reasonable counterarguments, Tony thought, letting the groin piece snap off. There had been a slight design flaw that he’d noted with the armor during a battle shortly after he and Steve Bonded. Of course, Tony had remedied that almost immediately. He fumbled for a moment to get his cock out where it strained against his pants, but finally managed.

Another spurt of slick leaked out, and Tony caught it before it could hit the bed, coating his cock, then spreading the rest on his pointer fingers and around the puffy edge of Steve’s hole. He pushed a finger from each hand inside and hooked them, gently pulling at the sides of Steve’s entrance, stretching it. Even through the metal, he could feel the initial resistance of the muscle as he tugged, then a warm rush of wetness ran past his fingers and Steve’s hole slackened. Tony withdrew his fingers and lined up the head of his cock, letting the bulbous end catch on Steve’s rim as he shifted into position. Steve moaned, low and throaty, each time the head of Tony’s cock skimmed over the rim of his hole, which contacted with each pass, like it was trying to catch onto Tony’s cock. Tony gripped the backs of Steve’s thighs, taking a moment to enjoy the flash of red metal on pale skin, then thrust his cock all the way in, burying himself fully inside Steve’s warm, wet heat.

Steve let out a harsh, guttural cry, his own cock bobbing at Tony’s thrust leaving a smattering of white drops across Steve’s belly. “Toooonnnnyyyy…” Steve moaned. “Please. _Please_.”

Tony lifted Steve’s hips, holding him off the bed to get the right angle, thanking, well…himself…for the armor, and hell, God bless the Ten Rings, every one, because it was totally worth it if he got to do this. He pulled out fully, watching Steve’s hole wink invitingly at him, then slammed back in, again and again, hands digging into the soft flesh of Steve’s thighs, and in the armor, he knew, there would be bruises there, long and thin bluish-black lines that Tony had put there, and fuck if just thinking about it wasn’t enough to almost make him come.

Steve gripped his knees to his chest, making pale, white impressions appear where he held them in a deathgrip. He kept taking in sharp little gasps of air each time Tony plunged in, his body straining against the implacable grip of the armor until he finally let go, all the tension running out of his body, giving himself over to Tony completely as the armor kept him in position.

Tony kept up a fast, brutal pace, pulling far enough out that he could see Steve’s hole gape, then contract, as it tried to tighten around something that wasn’t there before thrusting all the way in again, making sure to hit Steve’s prostate on each stroke. At some point, he flipped the faceplate up, his eyes drifting between Steve’s face, flushed and sweaty, body jolting with each thrust and eyes locked on Tony, and the absolutely filthy sight presented by the red and gold metal of the suit pressing against the curve of Steve’s body each time Tony’s cock sank into him.

He kept up the steady pounding of his hips, relishing each long slide into and out of Steve’s body, the way it wrapped around him each time, like it wanted to hold on. Sooner than he would have liked, he felt his rhythm falter, his movements become more erratic, until his hips were snapping shallow, stuttering thrusts. He let go of Steve’s thighs and fell forward, bracing one hand on each side of Steve and pulled out, then rammed all the way in again, coming so hard his vision went black for a moment. He felt Steve rocking his hips against him as he drew out the last of Tony’s orgasm while riding out his own, long streams of fluid decorating the front of the armor and Steve’s chest as Steve came without being touched.

Tony rolled to the side and collapsed next to Steve on the bed, breathing heavily. “Remind me why we haven’t done that before,” Tony managed after a few minutes.

“Because I’m an idiot,” Steve answered blearily, sounding extremely pleased with himself. He could practically hear the lazy smile in Steve’s voice. Tony crawled out of the bed and disassembled the suit back into the briefcase. That was going to need a thorough cleaning, Tony thought with a lascivious grin. He undressed and took a couple of power bars from his suitcase, then mixed the electrolyte powder with some water from the room’s mini-fridge and brought the glass and snacks to Steve.

“Thanks, Tony,” Steve said, taking both and dutifully finishing each before handing the empty glass back to Tony. He used a towel to clean Steve up, then helped him to get under the sheet as he pulled the messy comforter off the bed. There was a blanket thrown over the back of the sofa that sat in the bedroom’s living area, so he grabbed that and spread it out over Steve.

“Rest,” Tony ordered. “Won’t be long now.”

“I know,” Steve replied, his eyelids already drooping. Tony climbed into the bed and carefully draped himself over Steve’s body. The important thing, he thought as he drifted towards sleep, was that he was prepared, and he had thought of everything. He could handle this. Throughout human history, Alphas had been taking care of their Omegas during a Heat, and between everything he’d read on the subject and all his conversations with Bruce, he was more than ready.

He knew that, on extremely rare occasions, no examples of which came immediately to mind, his own biology got the better of him. It was hardly his fault he was Bonded to the most amazing Omega ever and this was pure and true and right. Blame the universe. The important thing was that he was prepared for this. He wasn’t some insane Alpha ruled by his hormones. Those days were gone. He was a man of science. A futurist, able to predict outcomes and eventualities and prepare for them. That was what he did. This was just biology. Nothing to worry about, he told himself as his eyes fell closed.

He had this. He totally had this.

HOLYFUCKINGSHITOHMYGODWHATTHEFUCKINGHELL??!!??!!

Tony woke up with a start and flung himself off of Steve, then scooted down to the end of the bed, eyes darting around the room. Holy. Fucking. Hell. What was that? His breathing was coming in shallow pants and each time he sucked in air, it was like his body lit on fire. The room was coated in it, the bed, the sheets, his body, hell everything was coated in it, permeated by it, it was in him, in his skin, suffusing his pores, filling his nose, drowning out his air and burning its way down his throat like the world’s best alcohol, this wonderful, amazing _scent_. He drew in a long, deliberate breath, then let it out his nose.

His cock was rock hard, pointing out in front of him and already leaking white beads of pre-come from the head. Who needed food or water or, you know, moving, when you could have this? He wanted to saturate himself in the smell, let it pour over him, permeate inside him where he could hold it there forever, keep it to himself, deep within so no one else could ever know this. That was important. Extremely important. Could not emphasize that point enough. There was a low, rumbling growl echoing in the room that Tony realized was coming from him.

“Mine,” Tony ground out. He crawled over and picked up the cybernetic interface from the bedside table, then watched with almost detached fascination as the armor assembled itself by the bed, standing sentry. Tony pointed at Steve. “Mine,” he repeated. The armor seemed to understand the one word Tony was capable of uttering at the moment. Good. That was good, he thought, and felt a little bit of the tension leave him.

Steve was watching him with dark, rounded eyes. He stretched, catlike, and reached out a hand, rubbing it over his torso where Tony had been warming him, then kicked the sticky sheet off and rolled over onto his stomach. Steve pushed himself up to his knees, bracing his arms on the mattress just below the headboard and let his head hang down between his shoulder blades. Well, you couldn’t really argue with that logic, Tony figured.

“God, Steve,” Tony choked out, eyes roving over the lines of Steve’s body, the way the muscles of his back and flanks moved and bunched, how his powerful thighs trembled with the effort. Steve’s cock was hard enough to press against his stomach, even at that angle, his balls hanging heavy and red, swaying slightly when he shifted on the bed. There was a wet patch on the sheet beneath Steve, Tony saw, and felt his cock jump in response to what his body knew that meant.

Tony took another deep breath, letting the deep, pungent odor of Steve’s scent fill his lungs. He tried to find some word for what it felt like, but found everything he thought of inadequate. He knew smell was tied to sense memory, and with each inhale of air, it was Steve’s smile and Steve’s laugh and the way Steve felt under his hands and how it made him feel when Steve looked to him with such complete faith and trust, the way his chest would constrict almost to the point of pain when Steve chose him, over and over, each moment of each day, all brighting across his mind with each breath.

Tony crawled across the bed to kneel next to Steve, sucking in another gulp of air into his lungs. He let his eyes close for a moment, trying to find some way to center himself. He could do this for Steve. Take care of him. Make this good for him. This was his purpose.

Well, that and fucking Steve into oblivion, but also, love, blah, blah, blah.

“Alpha,” Steve replied, letting the word hang in the air between them. Steve lowered his forehead to the mattress and spread his knees further apart and presented. His hole was gaping and dripping slick down onto his balls. Tony could see the darker pink channel of Steve’s inner walls glistening beyond the reddened rim.

“You’re beautiful,” Tony said.

“That’s my ass,” Steve pointed out.

“I know. I just really like it,” Tony replied with a smile. He could do this. This was still them, hormones and scent and scent and scent and scent and…wait, what was he saying? He shrugged and breathed in again, then traced two fingers through the thick liquid leaking out of Steve’s hole. Steve was grinding his head against the mattress, his chest heaving with each breath, little shivers pulsing through his body as he knelt there, waiting for Tony.

Tony crawled over on his knees, sitting back on his heels as he looked at Steve. This was what every Alpha dreamed of, after all. Their Omega bowed before them, fully presented and waiting to be knotted. Easily half the porn on the planet involved just this scenario.   He’d expected it to be insanely hot, of course, and it was, but it was…it was something more, somehow, some kind of deep promise bound with hope and love and not a little bit of terror. _We’re going to make a baby_ , he thought with a giddy sort of amazement. _We’re going to be a family_. Steve and him and someone they _made_ , someone who would be theirs, be of them, a part of each of them. He had spent his life making things, but he had never created, not really, he thought. This was pure and true and right and _everything_. This was everything.

So, no pressure.

“Alpha,” Steve said again, the word seeming to sear a line from Tony’s brain to his cock. He reached out to cup Steve’s ass, massaging the cheeks in his hands a bit, then gently spreading him further apart. Steve’s skin was warm and fevered, glowing with a sheen of sweat that wet his palms. Steve’s hole wide and puckered, leaking a steady stream of fluid now. Tony traced the harder skin that circled it with his finger, then pushed inside the slick channel. God, Steve was burning up, Tony thought as he swirled his finger around the soft, wet passage. Steve sucked in a gasp of breath, then let it out in a long, low hiss, his cock bouncing insistently against his belly.

“Soon,” Tony promised as he released Steve’s reddened cock. He gripped each of Steve’s balls in his hand, weighing them and feeling them tighten and harden, then gave them a sharp tug. Steve’s hips jerked forward, and he grunted in sharp surprise. Tony reached between Steve’s legs and wrapped a hand around the head of Steve’s cock, pinching the end between his thumb and forefinger and holding it for a moment. Steve let out a deep moan, his chest dipping forward so it pressed against the bed, body going lax. When he felt Steve relax, some of the tension leaving his back and thighs, he let go and moved to grip Steve’s hips as he lined himself up. He pushed in slowly, relishing the way the incredible liquid heat of Steve’s body engulfed him.  

There was some sound emanating from his chest, half groan, half warning, his whole body thrumming with one word, _mine_. Mine, he thought again as he sank into Steve, seating himself fully. Mine, his mind sang, the chant filling his head as he pulled out and thrust back in again. This was what it felt like to want to fight and rend and tear and kill and taste blood on your lips if someone so much as touched what was yours. He was gripping Steve’s hips hard, he knew, fingers digging into flesh, but he couldn’t seem to let up, not now anyway, and Steve wasn’t complaining, just making a high, keening sound on each thrust. Tony pulled most of the way out, leaving just the head of his cock inside Steve’s body, taking in the sight of his cock covered in Steve’s slick, then thrust in again, hips snapping hard against Steve’s soaked skin.

“Mine,” Tony cried out again and again, punctuating each word with a deep, forceful thrust that rocked Steve’s body forward against the bed.

“Yours,” Steve slurred out. Tony came with a shout, hips jerking forward a few more times as he spent himself inside Steve. He groaned and bent forward, letting his forehead rest against the expanse of Steve’s sweat-slickened back for a moment. He felt the familiar swelling pressure on the end of his cock and pushed himself back up as the welcoming gush of warm wetness coated his shaft. His knot released, expanding inside Steve until it filled him fully. Steve’s body bucked and shuddered as the knot brushed across his prostate.

Tony rocked his hips forward, ensuring that the knot pushed against the bundle of nerves there where it sealed Steve’s passage tight, keeping Tony’s come locked inside for better fertilization. Steve let out a sharp cry that descended into a low wail as Tony rubbed his hand up and down the crack of Steve’s ass, gathering the fluid there and then wrapped his slickened hand around Steve’s cock.   He worked Steve’s length, stroking his thumb along the taut underside of Steve’s cock, then circling his fingers into a ring shape and working the head, using his thumb to push into the sensitive slit. Steve was making gasping little noises like he couldn’t settle on a cry or a moan, ending up in some convergence of both, quick, uncontrolled sounds of pure pleasure that were driving Tony mad.

It wasn’t long before he felt Steve’s body tightened and stiffen around him. Tony kept pumping his hand up and down, shifting his hips down and then up slightly, gently at first, then two hard pumps so that his knot hit right up against Steve’s prostate. Steve’s back arched as he threw his head back and screamed, the walls of his passage clenching around Tony’s cock like a vice as Steve came into Tony’s hand in stuttering, jerky movements. Tony heard himself shout as well, the sharp, quick contraction of Steve’s channel as it squeezed around him enough to send spirals of pleasure-pain through his cock as Steve’s body vibrated with his orgasm.

Tony was panting in quick, short breaths by the time Steve quieted, his knot still seated deep inside Steve’s body. He swallowed past his suddenly dry throat and took his come-soaked hand and rubbed it up and down Steve’s back, up to the spot on Steve’s neck where he could feel the slight depressions of his mark. Steve groaned as Tony pushed against the mark and let his head and chest fall back down to the bed, his breathing evening out for the moment.

“So, ah,” Tony started, clearing his throat. “I have some entertainment this time. While we wait, I mean. Think you’ll enjoy it. Jarvis? Run program, please,” Tony called out.

“Of course, Sir,” Jarvis responded promptly.

“Time Magazine’s Man of the Year is known throughout the world as a genius inventor, a billionaire playboy who will tell you he is most proud of his philanthropic efforts, which are as varied as his company’s investments…” Jarvis intoned over the room’s speakers.

“This is false imprisonment,” Steve said mildly.

“It’s a great article!” Tony protested.

“I know. I read it after we first met,” Steve replied.

“You did?” Tony asked, absurdly pleased by the thought. “Well, won’t hurt to hear it again.” Steve sighed, but didn’t protest further as Jarvis read through the Time Magazine article. Tony gently massaged Steve’s lower back and thighs, then up and down the curve of Steve’s spine until the muscles went lax under his ministrations. Steve hummed appreciatively as Tony handed him a pillow for his head.

“So, names,” Tony began after Jarvis finished reading the Time Magazine piece and an assortment of admittedly glowing press clippings he’d picked out in advance. Lots of charitable crap Steve would probably like. Steve did so love to stay informed.

“No,” Steve said firmly.

“I’m thinking Steven if it’s a boy, and if it’s a girl, Stevanne with an a-n-n-e on the end,” Tony suggested.

“Still not discussing this now,” Steve continued. “Besides, I know you remember what I told you.”

“That, as a rule, whatever came out of your body, you got to call it whatever you want,” Tony recited. Admittedly, this was an annoyingly fair rule, but he just really liked the sound of Steve’s name, and there was already the Steve Zone practically established. He just needed a few visual aids, maybe a PowerPoint…definitely a memo of some kind. Everyone really seemed to respond really well to those.

“Oh!” Tony gasped in surprise as he felt the full sort of pressure against the tip of his cock suddenly ease and a warm rush of liquid engulf him as his knot retracted. Steve let out a short cry, his body stiffening briefly as the knot released and Tony eased out of him. There was a thin, clear trail of slick between the end of his cock and Steve’s hole, the last evidence of what had tethered them together for so long. Tony sighed and collapsed back onto his heels as Steve rolled to his side, body trembling every few seconds with the after-effects.

Tony forced himself to move far enough to grab another Power Bar, opened the wrapper and offered it to Steve. He felt a ridiculous surge of relief when Steve took it and bit into it, chewing slowly on a few bites before collapsing back on the bed. Tony crawled up to lay beside him, wrapping his arms around him and running his hands up and down Steve’s body in soothing motions.

It wasn’t long before the tremors wracking Steve’s body grew stronger, and Tony felt a gush of liquid coat his thighs where they were cradled against Steve’s ass. Steve let out a long, shuddering moan and curled himself up almost into a fetal position in Tony’s arms.

“I’m going to take care of you now,” Tony promised, running his other hand up and down Steve’s back in a practiced motion. “Okay?”

“Ungh,” Steve managed, but he shifted one knee up towards his chest, offering Tony better access. Tony looked down at Steve’s puckered rim where it gaped open and winced in sympathy as another full-body shudder shook through Steve and a fresh burst of fluid leaked out of his hole. “Alpha,” Steve murmured, voice slow and thick like the word stuck in his throat.

Tony pushed two fingers deep inside Steve, letting them slide back and forth over Steve’s passage, tracing along the sides back and forth a few times before he pressed hard against Steve’s prostate. Steve’s body jumped under his hand, then stilled as Tony rubbed circles over his back. He fucked his fingers in and out a few times, just to get Steve’s body ready, then pressed them firmly against Steve’s prostate, not jabbing at it anymore, just pressing and circling his fingers over the sensitive bundle of nerves, mimicking the motion his other hand was making on Steve’s back.

Steve moaned, low and gravelly, and Tony felt a fresh spurt of warmth coat his hand. Tony worked his fingers over Steve’s prostate, round and round, keeping up the pressure and constant motion, until he felt Steve’s body stiffen as his orgasm slammed through him Steve came with a shuddering breath, his whole body convulsing as streams of white stained the sheet while Tony kept up his rhythm.

“Good. Good, Steve,” Tony praised, but didn’t stop the slow circling of his fingers. “Now, again.”

Steve ground his forehead back and forth against the bed, hands fisting in the sheets, but pressed back against Tony’s hand even as his body was still shaking from his orgasm. Tony moved his hand from Steve’s back to wrap around Steve’s cock, stroking the sensitive underside along the throbbing vein there, keeping him hard while Tony’s fingers worked relentlessly to stimulate his prostate. It took a little longer, but soon enough, Tony felt fluid begin to pulse from the head of Steve’s cock  as his body clenched around Tony's fingers.

He swiped a thumb through it and rubbed it into the slit that crowned the head of Steve’s cock, digging in just a bit as he pressed hard against Steve’s prostate. Steve shook as he came again, emptying himself into Tony’s hand this time, a long, high-pitched keening coming from him as Tony ran his come-soaked hand up and down over Steve’s length while he pushed his fingers deep, rubbing back and forth along the hard nub deep inside Steve’s body.

“Almost there, baby. You can do it,” Tony encouraged. Steve let out a choked, desperate sounding sob as Tony pressed down hard on his prostate, then let up, then pushed hard again and again, repeating the motion over and over as he pumped his fingers into Steve’s body. Steve’s back bowed and he let out a sharp cry, his cock once again hardening in Tony’s hand.

“Good, good,” Tony murmured. “I’ve got you. One more time for me,” Tony said, then pushed down hard and held his fingers in place as he stroked Steve’s cock. Steve’s orgasm seemed to take them both by surprise, as his hips juddered, rutting his cock through the ring formed by Tony’s hand while he spilled himself. Tony let his fingers circle once more over Steve’s over-stimulated prostate, then he withdrew them, leaving Steve panting against the bed, muscles quaking and going lax as Tony released his cock.

“Feel better?” Tony asked carefully as he grabbed a towel from the beside table and wiped off his hand.

“Mmmm,” Steve managed, which Tony decided to take for a yes. Steve rolled over so he was laying facing Tony and buried his head into Tony’s chest.

Tony couldn’t help but grin, weirdly proud of himself for how wrecked Steve’s voice sounded. I did that, Tony thought. Made him feel like this. Sure, Tony kind of wanted to run around the room beating his chest a bit, but that could probably wait because they were having a moment. Would feel good though, he couldn’t help but think. He would be able to knot again soon, and they could try again, but for now, it felt good just to hold his Omega close.

“Mine,” Tony heard himself say. “Sorry,” he said, casting a quick glance at the armor still standing guard next to the bed. He was really going to have to clean that, though he kind of liked how it looked. Steve would probably not like come-soaked Iron Man showing up in the papers though. Tony would like to put spray ‘My Omega Steve Did This’ in glow paint on it, but that would also probably be frowned upon. “I just---really like saying that.”

“Izokay,” Steve slurred. “Love you. _Alpha_. _Tooonnnyyy_ ,” Steve said, dragging out the words as an almost blissful smile curved on his lips around them.

Tony reached out to lay a hand on Steve’s head and realized his hand was shaking. He made a fist to try to still it, then curved it around the back of Steve’s head to cradle him against his chest. His own hair was sticking to his forehead, damp with sweat from the exertion, but he couldn’t blame his tenuous hold on his emotions on that.

“Love you, too. So much,” Tony whispered against the top of Steve’s head, voice breaking. His eyes were stinging and his chest felt like it was wrapped in a vice. How do you hold the world in your hands, Tony wondered. He hadn’t realized he’d spoken out loud until Steve lifted his head to look up at Tony, eyes soft and almost pained.

“Like this,” Steve said quietly, wrapping his arms around Tony’s back and pulling him close.


	6. Steve POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OMG, more fluffy porn. What is my life?

The morning crept up on Steve slowly, and for a while, he refused to allow himself to actually open his eyes, just enjoyed floating there in that space between full sleep and actual wakefulness. He was sore, a hot, achy sort of tenderness deep inside that made him flush a bit with remembered pleasure and a sharper dry, raw kind of tenderness on the outside of his body that jolted through him when he shifted on the bed. It felt good. Satisfying in a strange way, like the pleasure-pain that he felt when his muscles protested after a long run. Like he’d accomplished something, a good kind of earned discomfort stretching his skin and making his nerves tingle, like he was inside out and they were suddenly too close to the surface of his skin. He could feel everything with so much more intensity than usual, each brush of his fingers across his skin sending gooseflesh in its wake, the slight wave of air from the cooling unit enough to make his nipples pebble. He was warm, but not unpleasantly so, the sweat-soaked need of the night before just a strange, hazy memory. Everything was just…more. He usually felt wrung out after a Heat, but this time, it was like he had too much energy, his body practically vibrating with it.

Steve looked down and brought a hand up to hover over where Tony was passed out on top of him, his head pillowed on Steve’s chest and mouth hanging open a bit as he breathed softly. Tony’s hair was standing on end in places and damp curls were matted down with sweat in others, making him look younger than he was. The knowledge that he had pleased his Alpha was still pumping through his body, sending surges of endorphins to mask his body’s soreness. He knew enough of his own biology to know how the morning after worked, but it was still a nice, heady feeling to see Tony all but dead to the world and know that it was because of him.

He carefully slid out from under Tony’s prone form and made his way to the bathroom. After he relieved himself, he carefully washed only his hands, then studied his reflection in the mirror. He was naked, of course, and wouldn’t dress for some time yet. He was still sticky with the mess of last night, and smelled of sex and come, sweat and musk. It was…pleasing. Tony will like it, he thought, and felt himself flush warm at that. Tony will wake and look at him, would smell and see the evidence of what they’d done and know that Steve belonged to him, and that thought sent a thrum of pleasure through his body, tightening loose muscles like a bowstring.

There were marks on his hips and the insides of his thighs, already bluish in the morning light. He traced over them absently, pressing against the darkening flesh a bit and relishing the sharp, deep sting that came with them and the knowledge that Tony, who cared for him like he was something breakable and infinitely precious, had been so overcome that he had put those marks there. He brought his hands around to rub over his flat stomach. It was still hard to believe that it could be happening right now. Of course, it was way too soon to tell anything. Tony would know first, anyway. And Bruce had cautioned them not to be too hopeful, what with the unknown effects of the serum. But still. _Still_. It could be. It could be and for now, that possibility was enough to leave a goofy grin on his face.

Steve padded naked across the bedroom and stopped next to the bed, gently brushing a stray curl off of Tony’s forehead. It wouldn’t be long before Tony woke up as well, he knew, so he got what he needed from his suitcase and made his way to the kitchen.

The armor followed silently behind him, one hand still held out in front of it to ward off…well, probably anything from Dr. Doom to mosquitoes, knowing Tony. Once he reached the kitchen, he stopped and turned around to where the armor stood a few feet away. He was honestly having difficulty looking at the armor this morning after the events of last night. Every time he caught a glimpse of the sleek metal of the gauntlets, he felt his face grow hot with embarrassment.

“You and I are really going to need to have a conversation about boundaries,” Steve said mildly. The armor, which apparently took after its creator, completely ignored him. He sighed and turned towards the coffee pot and pulled out the special blend from Italy that Tony liked. Steve got the coffee brewing, then prepared a plate of the foods he’d requested Jarvis order for the island, along with the coffee.

When the coffee machine beeped its readiness, he poured it into a thermal carafe and arranged everything on a bamboo tray. The towels he had bought for the occasion were next, soft Turkish cotton cloths he had found in one of the specialty shops downtown that catered to Omegas. He added a few drops of sandalwood oil to each towel, because he knew that Tony liked the smell, then wet them and wrung them out. They went into the microwave next to warm them. Traditionally, it would be done over hot stones, but he figured Tony wouldn’t mind if he skipped a step. He rolled them up carefully to keep the heat in and placed them inside a small clay pot he’d purchased at the same shop, nothing fancy, but with a delicate pattern of small circles around the lip that had reminded him of the reactor. Steve put the lid on the clay pot and added it to the tray next to the food, fiddling with the arrangement a bit until he was satisfied. He carried the tray down the long hall to the bedroom, then stopped in front of the door.

“You could at least open the door,” Steve called to the armor. It ignored him. “I could stub my toe. Drop the tray and injure myself. Trip. Really, any number of hazards could—okay, no!” Steve amended quickly as the armor raised a gauntleted hand and pointed it at the door. “You know, I think I’ve got it.”

Tony had not so much as stirred, Steve noted, still flopped on his stomach on the bed, one arm dangling towards the floor. Steve walked over to the bed and sat the breakfast tray down on the bedside table, then picked up a pillow that had fallen on the floor at some point last night. He grinned a bit as he put it on the ground and dropped to his knees on top of it. It shouldn’t matter so much, he supposed. It was a small thing compared to everything Tony did for him, but the desire to have Steve be comfortable had been one of the first things Tony had done after they Bonded. The pillows were one of the many ways Tony made Steve’s happiness his priority, and Steve couldn’t help but find it all rather endearing.

He’d honestly never imagined having an Alpha, let alone one like Tony. Too sickly and frail for child-bearing. The serum had supposedly fixed that, but made him into the kind of Omega no Alpha would want, or so he had assumed. Then he’d met Tony. Tony, who not just let him be Captain America, but admired him for it, fought beside him, took orders from him in the field. Well, at least occasionally, Steve corrected with a slight smile. Tony, who told him he was beautiful, even like this, and tried his damnedest to take care of Steve, like he was any other Omega.

It still managed to leave him in awe that someone like Tony would want him, when he could have any Omega he wanted. But if he hadn’t wanted Steve, they would never have Bonded. Tony loved him, just as he was, which was both amazing and humbling at the same time. And now, it was his turn to take care of Tony. He felt a smile break over his face at the thought and wondered if Tony would be surprised or if he would expect it, Steve being from the Pleistocene era and all, as Tony liked to tease.

Steve shook his head a bit to clear it, then closed his eyes where he knelt by the bed and bowed his head, waiting for Tony to wake. The armor was hovering protectively behind him while Steve, and he couldn’t help the small thrill that ran through him when his eyes happened to land on the bright red fingers where the armor held its repulsors aloft. Those were inside me, he thought, recalling the cold, unyielding feel of the metal sliding into him. It was the first time he’d felt…he searched for the right word. Vulnerable. But…safe. Tony would never hurt him. He couldn’t explain it, not with any precision, but for the first time, he’d felt like he imagined an Omega was supposed to feel. Like his Alpha could take him, use him, do what he wanted, but was holding all that power in check because Steve was something to be cherished and protected and treated with care. It was an odd thing for him to want to feel, or it felt like it should be, but he couldn’t deny how much he had enjoyed it. He trusted Tony like no one else. Maybe that was why he could allow it, let himself go and let Tony just make him feel.

He tried to focus his thoughts on the night before, drawing upon hazy memories that his body seemed to recall better than his mind. Steve ran his hands down the curve of his bottom to the tops of his thighs where he could feel the stripes of tender flesh where metal fingers had dug in and held him last night. He rubbed his own fingers over his skin there and imagined what it looked like, bluing skin where his Alpha had gripped him, keeping him in place while he took him. Steve felt his cock twitch in response to his thoughts. Good. He needed to be fully hard when Tony woke.

Tony’s fingers buried inside him, swirling around and around his prostate, pressing hard against it and refusing to let up, until Steve wanted to sob from too much sensation, all the signals getting crossed in his mind because it hurt too much and felt too good, and he hadn’t known what to do with that, except that he wanted to beg Tony to stop and make him promise to keep going at the same time. Tony’s knot swelling inside him until it filled him completely, brushing against every part of him at once, different than the slide of Tony’s cock, bigger and wider and deeper, so much deeper inside him, keeping Tony’s cum there. Where it belongs, he thought, feeling a fierce surge of pleasure at that thought.

His cock was fully erect now, jutting up against his navel, a small, white dot of pre-cum clinging to the head. Good. He could hear the slight change in his mate’s breathing. Steve knelt there for some indeterminate amount of time waiting for Tony to wake, letting memories of the past night play across his mind like one of those old news reels, keeping himself hard.

Steve heard Tony shift on the bed as he rolled over onto his back and let out a long, drawn out sigh. He could almost hear the pause in the air as Tony looked at him. “A traditionalist, huh?” Tony said, trying for wry, probably, but sounding inordinately pleased by the sight of Steve kneeling naked by the bed, cock hard and head bowed, waiting for his Alpha to acknowledge him. Tony sighed again, though Steve could tell it was purely for effect, then Steve felt the weight of Tony’s hand settle on his head, sliding down to cup his jaw and lift his head so he could look Tony in the eye.

“Mine,” Tony whispered softly, peering down at Steve with a bright, fierce intensity. “Mine,” Tony repeated, sharper this time, framed by the low rumble of a growl underneath it. The word sent a shaft of pleasant warmth through Steve’s body, and he felt himself tremble, mouth parting to say something, but he couldn’t get his mind to find the right words. “Good morning, my love,” Tony said quietly.

“Good morning,” Steve said with a slight smile. He reached over to the tray and took the carafe of coffee, then poured the brew into the mug and handed it to Tony. Tony took a long drink, then put the mug back on the tray, sitting up slightly in the bed. There was a small, fond smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, like he was trying to keep from grinning and not quite managing. Steve took some of the food off the plate and offered it to Tony, who obediently opened his mouth to take it from Steve’s hand. Tony ate slowly, his eyes roaming possessively over Steve’s body while he chewed.

“Just how traditional are you planning to be?” Tony asked after he swallowed, gaze turned assessing and heated.

“You always call me old-fashioned,” Steve reminded him. “Figured you’d like this.”

“Steve, I would like it if you spent your day doing your cuticles,” Tony admitted with some chagrin. Steve held up his fingernails in front of his face speculatively, as if to examine them, and Tony snorted with laughter. “I know we’re Bonded and all, but, you know. Never been exactly a stickler for tradition, so. Whatever. It isn’t a big deal. You shouldn’t…I mean, you don’t have to or anything. Just because we’re Bonded, is all I’m saying.”

“Tony,” Steve started with a slightly exasperated tone. “There are some things that biology dictates for all of us, but I want to do this for you because…well, because I want to take care of you. I love you. I mean, I want to wear your mark and your scent so all the other Alphas in the cave know that I belong to you and will leave me alone, sure. But, I spend hours sitting down in your workshop with you because you’re smart and funny and kind, and I like being around you. And I want you because you make me feel incredible, and I love how I get to make you feel. Now, will you allow me to take care of you? Please?”

Tony studied him for a long moment, then flopped back against the pillows with a sly grin. “I’m full.”

Steve bit back a laugh and put the full plate of food aside. “Uh-huh,” he nodded agreeably. “That one bite did it for you, huh?”

“Small meals throughout the day are the key,” Tony informed him, one eyebrow raised in challenge. Steve grinned and stood, bending to take the clay pot off the tray as he did. He climbed onto the bed, feeling it dip beneath his weight as he sat near Tony’s feet. He took a hot towel from the pot and replaced the lid, then started gently rubbing the towel over and around Tony’s foot, massaging and kneading as he cleaned. He worked his way from one foot to the other, then up Tony’s legs, replacing the towel as it cooled for a warmer one.

Steve performed the same ritual over the rest of Tony’s limbs, then over his chest, carefully running the heated cloth around the reactor and tracing it over the spider-webbing of scars that marred Tony’s chest. He could feel the hitch in Tony’s breaths as he went, the heated weight of his gaze as he watched Steve go about his ministrations. Tony rolled over to let him cleanse his back, working his fingers deep into the muscles until they felt soft and languid under his hands. Tony shifted over again, and Steve took the last cloth to wipe gently over Tony’s face, over his lips and eyes and down his neck until he was clean and relaxed.                

He put the towels and clay pot aside, then moved back between Tony’s knees, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he stared down at Tony’s cock, half-hard from Steve’s touches already. Or from the thought of what came after, he wasn’t entirely sure.

Steve reached out and took Tony’s balls in his hands, lifting and separating the soft flesh, then leaned over and dipped his head down, breathing in deeply of Tony’s scent. It was musk and sex and the slightly sweet odor of Steve’s own slick, and it went straight to his cock. He could feel the spurt of pre-cum leak out between his legs onto the mattress where his own cock still thrust against his stomach.

He heard Tony make an aborted sound that might have been a gasp or a cry, he wasn’t sure, but when he looked up, Tony was watching him intently, eyes dark and mouth slightly parted. Steve bent his head again and nuzzled his nose into the thick, curly hair that surrounded Tony’s cock, then lowered his mouth and darted his tongue out to lick one of Tony’s balls. The skin there was wrinkled and soft with a fine down of hair covering it. He gently lapped at it, tasting the salt and sweat and his own juices on his tongue as he cleaned. Finally, he pulled it into his mouth, and felt Tony’s cock jump against his cheek and a few drops of warm wetness hit the side of his face as he worked it around in his mouth, swirling his tongue and sucking lightly. The other ball was heavy and full now as he gave it the same attention, enjoying the different texture of it in his mouth.

When he was done, he let it free with a soft, wet pop, then shifted up slightly so he could see Tony’s face as his tongue darted out to lick the small, white beads from the tip of Tony’s shaft. Steve could feel his own cock grow impossibly harder as he wrapped his mouth around the head of Tony’s cock and sucked, lightly at first, then harder. Tony barked out a sharp cry that quickly devolved into a long, disjointed groan, his hands fisting into the sheets next to his hips.               

Steve let Tony’s cock slide out of his mouth, then licked a long, wet stripe from tip to root and back down again, repeating the motion several times until the shaft was glistening with saliva. He took the head in his mouth again and swirled his tongue around in slow, undulating circles, then flattened it out and rubbed it against the sensitive underside of Tony’s cock, finally hollowing his cheeks enough to suck in earnest. He could taste the drops of pre-cum on the flowing down the back of his throat, so he pulled back enough to flick the tip of his tongue up and down the slit on the head of Tony’s cock, then burrowed it inside the small flaps of skin until he felt the thick beads of salty fluid against the end of his tongue and slowly drew them out.

“Nguh, fuck, holy fucking Christ, Steve,” Tony said, squirming slightly, one hand coming up to scrub over his face. His eyes were wide and fixed on Steve, dark with arousal, face flushed and damp with sweat, nearly undone and desperate with need. Steve couldn’t help the surge of power-fueled lust at the sight. He was doing this, making his Alpha feel this way, and the thought sent a heady, wanton warmth coiling low in his belly where he could feel his own cock harden even more at the sight.

It was harder from this angle to take Tony in, but he knew his body was made to do this, so he swallowed around Tony’s cock, wetting his suddenly dry throat, then bobbed his head up and down a few times. The saliva was pooling in his mouth, and he was getting a better feel for the motion and sensation of his airway being cut off. He tried to blank out all else, letting his brain and body catch up to each other and get past the instinctual resistance.  

Steve breathed in through his nose, feeling his eyes water a bit at the effort, but he could see Tony, his face taut and neck corded, could feel Tony’s body straining beneath him, could taste the salty, bitter drops on the back of his tongue, and wanted so badly to do this for Tony. Steve widened his mouth and relaxed his throat, then started to move slowly down Tony’s hard length.        

He bore down until he could feel the head of Tony’s cock bump against the back of his throat, then pulled off slightly, and reached for Tony’s hand, bringing it to the back of his head in silent entreaty. Tony groaned, low and guttural, and gently, but firmly pushed Steve’s head relentlessly forward until he bottomed out, nose tickling against the springy hairs at Tony’s groin.

Tony held him there for just long enough for Steve to feel tears start to form at the corners of his eyes, then pulled him back long enough for Steve to gasp in a breath before Tony was pushing Steve down on his cock again. This time, he could get Tony’s cock all the way into his throat without stopping, feeling the thick, wet length slide down with comparative ease. Back and forth, he was bobbing his head quickly now, Tony’s hand curled into his hair not really doing more than encouraging as Steve swallowed him down. He could feel his body shaking with the effort, his own cock throbbing painfully as it bounced against his stomach when he moved his head up and down around Tony. Experimentally, he flattened his tongue out and flicked it against the base of Tony’s cock as he took it in again, licking at the root as Tony’s cock jerked in his throat.

“Fuck, Steve, God, fuck,” Tony was babbling, a continuous stream of nonsense-praise that made a warm sense of pride swell within Steve. He could feel Tony’s balls swelling and tightening against his chin as he sucked Tony down, Tony’s cock thickening almost imperceptivity on each thrust.             

Steve took in a quick breath when he could and tried to relax his throat even more as he pushed his face flush with Tony’s abdomen as Tony’s cock slid fully into his throat, cutting off his air. He swallowed around it a few times, letting his throat muscles work to massage around Tony’s shaft. Tony’s hand was wrapped in his hair, holding him in place, and suddenly, Steve felt Tony’s whole body stiffen.  He could feel the warm, thick fluid leaking from his hole, running over where his balls hung, heavy and tight, and puddling on the bed beneath him.  His own cock was painfully hard, pushing insistently against his stomach, already leaking a steady stream, but he wouldn't touch himself.  This was about Tony, and he would come from taking care of his Alpha or not at all.

Tony’s hand moved from the back of Steve’s head to the column of Steve’s throat, and then Tony’s cock was jerking in his mouth, hitting the back of Steve’s throat and coating it with warm jets of come.   Tony’s hand held fast against Steve’s throat, pressing lightly so he could feel the shape of his own cock held inside Steve’s throat as it pumped through the aftershocks, thrusting hard down into Steve's throat.  Steve felt his own cock responding as his throat worked convulsively around Tony's cock, trying to swallow the jets of come coating the back of his throat.  His hips jerked as the orgasm that had been building all morning slammed into him.  He sucked hard at Tony's cock when Tony pulled back a bit, trying to keep him deeper, earning a pleased growl from his Alpha.

Steve felt almost dizzy from the strain of the lack of air, the final bursts of is own orgasm pulsing through him almost as an afterthought. He finally pulled off, a long trail of saliva dripping from his bottom lip to the head of Tony’s cock for a moment before it broke. He was panting, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes, body shaking with constrained tension and then Tony’s arms were around him, pulling him close, cradling Steve’s head to his chest.                            

“You were beautiful, Steve. Perfect. My perfect Omega. Perfect. God, Steve, I love you, I love you, I love you so much,” Tony murmured against the crown of Steve’s head. “You’re amazing. Amazing, beautiful, perfect,” Tony kept repeating, burying his mouth into Steve’s sweat-slicked hair, stroking the sides of his face and down his arms and back, like he couldn’t quite figure out where to touch and wanted to touch everywhere.       

“Love you, too, Tony,” Steve murmured, everything still feeling vaguely out of focus, like his vision was a half a second behind. “Alpha,” he sighed in a contented, satisfied sort of way. Tony tugged him tight against his chest and fell back onto the bed, pulling Steve with him, his hands running in quick, sure lines over Steve’s skin. They lay like that for longer than Steve had intended, but it felt so good. Safe and warm and loved beyond measure.

When Steve woke, he had no memory of actually having fallen asleep, but he was curled half on Tony’s chest, and quickly realized he must have fallen asleep. He gingerly pushed himself up and blinked down at Tony, who grinned up at him, a pleased sort of half-wicked, half-dopey smile that made the corners of Steve’s mouth twitch. Tony was feeling good, he knew. This was the time to ask him to go slay a mammoth or something, Steve thought with a small chuckle.

“Care to share?” Tony asked, grin widening. “Oh, no, wait. I know this! God, they warned us about this. There was a pamphlet and some terribly acted After School Special type thing. This is where you use your Omega wiles to get your sexed out Alpha to do whatever you want. Well, I am not your typical brain-dead, hormone-up Neanderthal Alpha here, Steven Grant Rogers-Stark, and let me just tell you right now…that is probably a completely accurate depiction of what is going to happen here, but I don’t see how that’s any different than a day ending in ‘Y,’ so you can stop looking at me like that. Come on, tell me what you want. I have an inexplicable desire to stab something, light it on fire and eat it. Feel like fondue for dinner?” Tony asked.

“Fondue sounds…about right,” Steve admitted with a large smile. Tony frowned and looked at him in question, but Steve just shook his head and stretched his arms above his head to work the kinks out of his back. He cast a quick glance at the clock and saw that it was mid-morning already.  They showered together, taking their time, Tony washing Steve almost reverently, then carefully drying him off with one of the soft, fluffy towels Steve knew Tony had ordered specially for this, and had a real breakfast this time, mostly consisting of the foods Steve had ordered for Tony because otherwise they had Power Bars and various flavors of electrolyte powder.

“It’s possible I skipped a few steps in the food preparation department,” Tony said dully, as he stared into the pantry. “On the other hand, we are going to be well energized.”

“We’ll be fine,” Steve assured him, cracking an egg into the frying pan next to where the bacon sizzled, as Tony typed out a grocery list for Jarvis to arrange to be delivered from one of the nearby populated islands. When it was ready, Steve put their breakfast on the tray and started to carry it out to the lanai when Tony came bounding in, out of breath

“Don’t lift things!” Tony shouted, holding out his hands in a stop-motion gesture. “You could—something could happen—you--you’re not supposed to lift things.”

“Tony, this is a tray of food. Two weeks ago, I threw a motorcycle at those Hydra guys. Remember? You were pissed because that was my third bike, which I really appreciate by the way, and I will truly try to stop throwing them,” Steve promised. “They’re just so darn handy,” Steve teased lightly. It was a testament to Tony’s level of distraction that he said nothing in response, Steve thought.

“I—I know. It’s just…now. With the…I mean, maybe. I mean…it’s just—you know what, I’ll carry it,” Tony insisted, grabbing the tray from Steve’s hands and marching out to the table on the patio. Steve sighed and followed him out, sitting down in his chair next to Tony, who passed him a plate of food and poured him a cup of coffee, then looked at it and promptly poured it onto the concrete patio. “No caffeine,” Tony said somewhat sadly, as if the loss of coffee for anyone was truly tragic.               

After breakfast, Steve announced he wanted to swim, which turned out to entail him floating on the gently lapping surf while Tony hovered above in the armor, presumably watching out for sharks or dolphins with consent issues, Steve wasn’t sure. He didn’t really mind, though. There was something comforting about Tony’s presence, and the motion of the waves, letting him just float there, filling his ears with the steady rush of noise, the sun warming his skin. It was soothing. Well, except for the skin cancer risk, he thought wryly.

By evening, the extra supplies had arrived, and they spent a pleasant hour or so in the kitchen preparing the items for their meal. Steve got the coq au vin heating in one fondue pot and grated cheeses melting in the other, while Tony chopped up slices of potato, and soon enough they were laughing over Steve’s mistaken assumption about the implications of the dish. Tony initially tried to demur, but finally let Steve feed him, small bites of meat cooked in the boiling broth and breads that were coated in melted cheese. It was a different kind of taking care of Tony than this morning, but it felt good nonetheless, and Tony couldn’t seem to stop smiling a bright, pleased smile each time Steve offered him food, so he counted dinner as a success.

At some point, Tony had changed the bedding, putting down fresh sheets, and hopefully burning the others, Steve thought with a grimace. They both undressed and slipped under the cool sheets, Tony flattening himself against Steve’s back and wrapping his arms under Steve’s, one leg thrown over Steve’s thigh. They stayed that way for some time, Tony running his hands up and down Steve’s chest, light fingertips ghosting over prickling flesh until Steve felt his body start to respond.

Tony dragged his hands in rhythmic circles over Steve’s abdomen, soft, gentle caresses across the hard planes of muscle there, something hopeful in the motion that stabbed at Steve’s heart. He wanted so very badly to give this to Tony, to have this for himself. He knew there were other options, and they would love their child completely, however he or she came to them, but he would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t want to see the two of them reflected in someone created from their love, didn’t want to know the feeling of their child moving inside his body, connected to him, a part of him. He knew that was the least of parenting, but he wanted to know it, if only this once.

Tony’s hands found his nipples, just grazing across the tips at first, then returning to roll the hard peaks between his fingers, pinching lightly. Steve let out an involuntary gasp and felt a rush of warmth leak out between the cheeks of his ass. He wasn’t ready yet, far too sore from the prior night, despite what his body was trying to tell him. It felt good though, the slick soothing the raw, swollen skin, and a part of him understood what Tony was doing and appreciated it, though another part was frustrated by his own body’s limits. He wanted Tony inside him again, even if he couldn’t knot, even if it hurt, but when he said as much, Tony just clucked his tongue to the roof of his mouth and shook his head.

“Too soon,” Tony muttered, but pressed Steve’s chest to the cool, soft bedsheet and nudged his knees apart. Steve obliged quickly, bending his knees and spreading them wide to give Tony access, maybe an invitation, he wasn’t entirely sure, just knew he wanted more of Tony’s touch, needed more of Tony, not the wild, insistent way of last night, but a deeper ache that started in his chest and moved down to the head of his cock and told him he wanted more. His body, at least, was responding just fine, he noted as a fresh rush of slick leaked out of his loosening hole. He could feel his body start to stretch, the muscles slacken as it readied him.

Steve wasn’t sure what he was expected, Tony’s fingers or his cock, but his whole body seized in startled pleasure as the warm softness of Tony’s tongue flicked out to lick at the rim of his hole, just tracing the curve around the red, puckered flesh at first. Steve’s cock jumped and started to thicken as it filled with blood in response, and he moaned into the pillow under his head. He felt the heat of Tony’s tongue leave him for a moment, the cool air feeling good against his wet, heated rim, and then Tony’s tongue was back, licking a stripe up the crack of his ass, lapping up the slick where it dripped from his hole. Steve let out a choked sob, his body shuddering as his mind filled with the image of Tony’s mouth buried between the spread cheeks of his ass.

Tony’s mouth stopped just over his entrance, and Steve could feel his warm puffs of breath pulse inside his body where his hole gaped open. Then Tony’s mouth was on him, wet and slippery from Steve’s own slick, covering Steve’s hole and sucking gently. Steve’s hips jerked, his back arching as he instinctively pressed against the warmth of Tony’s mouth, and he heard a low, pleased-sounding hum vibrate over the sensitive skin there. “Shhhh,” Tony said soothingly, his hands wrapping around Steve’s hips where the bones jutted out against the taut skin there. “I’ve got you. Just relax and let me make you feel good.”

Steve groaned and ground his forehead against the pillow, but forced his body to relax, muscles softening under Tony’s hands. His cock was throbbing, smashed between his hips and the bed, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, not when Tony bent his head again, moving his hands to spread Steve apart even more and set to work in earnest. He dipped his tongue inside Steve’s hole and started licking at Steve’s inner walls, lapping deeply at the hot, wet passage. Steve moaned lowly as he felt another spurt of slick coat his channel, but Tony didn’t let up, just kept up the slow, swirling motion of his tongue, the light suckling of his mouth.

Steve felt Tony’s lips close over the delicate skin of his rim, tongue flattening out inside him, and then the light scrape of teeth over the sensitive, nerve-filled skin there. He shouted, crying out something that might have been Tony’s name, his own cock leaking a steady stream all over the bed. Tony released his rim, and started darting his tongue in and out, rapid, pistoning pulses of wet heat lapping at Steve’s channel, pushing in as deeply as he could go, warm breath filling Steve’s gaping passage with each thrust of Tony’s tongue. Steve bit his lip and tasted blood, and then he was coming into the mattress, face scrunching with a sharp, vicious cry as he came. His hips were snapping against the bed and back into Tony’s face as he rode it out, but Tony didn’t stop, just kept up the steady, rhythmic pumping of his tongue into Steve’s body.

When he finally managed to come back to himself enough to gain some modicum of control over his body, Tony was pulling him over onto his side and away from the wet spot he’d made on the bed. Steve started protest that Tony hadn’t come, but closed his mouth when he felt Tony drag a hand up through the crack of his ass to gather the remaining slick and coat his own cock with it. Tony with a plan was generally a good thing, Steve figured, a pleasant buzz filling his ears as the blood started pounding again.

Tony moved behind Steve, flattening his chest against the middle of Steve’s back. He grabbed Steve’s legs, and pulled the backs of Steve’s thighs flush against his hard cock. It took a moment for Steve’s still addled brain to catch up, and by the time he did, Tony was already sliding his cock into the crevice formed by Steve’s thighs, the hard shaft just barely grazing the bottom of Steve’s still-slick crack right over the sensitive skin behind his balls.  It was so close to what Steve wanted, the slow slide of Tony's hard cock enough to press against the bundle of nerves beneath the perineum that he felt his own cock start to harden again as Tony thrust in and out of his thighs.

Tony groaned as he buried his hard cock between the tight cradle formed by the valley where Steve’s thighs were clamped together and held it there for a moment, then withdrew and started rutting in and out in earnest.   Steve turned his head to the side to catch a glimpse of Tony, his eyes slammed shut, his head thrown back in ecstasy as he continued grinding between Steve’s thighs. Steve automatically crossed his ankles to add to the pressure, and Tony hissed in response, motions becoming erratic as his hips started snapping, pounding his cock into the soft, fleshy V formed by Steve’s thighs. Steve could feel Tony’s cock thicken between the cleft of his legs, his balls hardening as they slapped against the tops of Steve’s thighs.

Tony’s hips jerked hard once, and a jet of cum coated the sleeve of Steve’s inner thighs, running down the length of his own cock and pooling on the bed as Tony came with a shout, thrusting in and out a few more times before he collapsed against the broad expanse of Steve’s back, panting heavily, one hand digging into the muscle of Steve’s upper arm while the other gripped the sheet into a fist.

Steve turned around and wrapped his arms around Tony’s waist, stroking the dark curls at the base of Tony’s head and down his back, repeating the motion over and over because he knew it would comfort Tony. “I think I need an energy drink,” Tony mumbled, lips moving against Steve’s chest.

“See? And you thought you didn’t plan accordingly,” Steve replied with a soft smile. “Sleep, Tony,” he urged, but Tony’s eyelids were already drooping closed, his breathing starting to even out against Steve’s chest.

“Mine,” Tony breathed into Steve’s skin.

“Yours,” Steve whispered into the silence.

*****Forty-six days later*****

Steve’s eyes snapped open, his body coming instantly awake, every nerve tingling in alert as he sat up in their bed. It was the middle of the night, and Tony was gone, which was enough of an unusual situation to make his heart skip a beat, but really, it was the ten—no, he corrected, twelve—armored suits that ringed the bed that raised the true concern.

“In my defense,” Steve heard Tony’s voice call out from somewhere near their bedroom door. “I think I’m handling this very well, all things considered.”

“Handling what, exactly?” Steve asked slowly, rubbing a hand over his face and taking in the room now filled with various armors. He’d known Tony was working on new suits. It had seemed like a good idea, having various suits that could be interchanged, depending on the circumstance. He just wasn’t quite sure what the emergency was that required a dozen of them to show up in their bedroom at, God, what was it? Four a.m.?

“You,” Tony said, the hand he waved in Steve’s direction outlined by the glow of all the different reactors. “You. You—your smell. You. You smell like—different. I can tell. You’re—you’re—God, your scent. It’s—I can’t—I need—“ Tony sputtered.

“Tony, what? What’s going—oh,” Steve said, as his brain finally caught up. “Oh,” he repeated, face softening into a wide, wondrous smile as he looked down to where his hands had gone automatically to curve around his still-flat stomach. He had obviously not fully thought through the implications of all the armors, he realized, looking around the bed where they all stood.

“Mine,” one of the armors by the end of the bed said.

“Tony, if these things all start chattering like those birds in Finding Nemo, you and I are going to need to have a conversation,” Steve intoned evenly.

“Okay, that t-shirt I got you was a joke. A souvenir from our trip to Disney. You took that way too seriously,” Tony objected.

“You got me thirty one of them,” Steve countered. “If I’m not mistaken, that’s a ‘Mine, Mine, Mine’ shirt for each day of the month.”

“You looked really great in it!” Tony tried. “Yeah, okay, fine, I’ll tweak the programming. Twenty-Six there just really likes you. He remembers you from the island, I think.”

“Well, that’s not at all disturbing,” Steve replied with a frown.

“So, like I said, handling this well, I think,” Tony started. “I mean, overall. One tiny issue that hardly bears mentioning, so we just won’t. Mention it. Ever. But all in all—“

“Sir, I am sorry to report that Dr. Banner admires your efforts, but must refuse your invitation to ‘come onto the Quin-Jet on what is definitely not a trip to the bottom of the ocean’ and offers his heartfelt congratulations,” Jarvis announced primly.

“Tony,” Steve warned.

“It wasn’t space,” Tony pointed out. “When you think about it, I showed restraint. Hey, maybe some kind of vibranium restraint for Bruce, do you think—no, no, you’re right, I’m sure it’ll be fine—“ Tony rushed out when Steve rolled his eyes and flopped back on the stack of pillows at the head of the bed. “Sorry,” Tony winced. “I’ll apologize to Bruce. Again. I might have overreacted. A tad. Shocking, I know,” Tony snorted in disgust, running a hand through his sleep-messy hair. “Sorry,” he said again, looking down at his toes. “For the—“ Tony started, waving a hand at the armors.

“Tony. Come here,” Steve called out, holding a hand out into the space above him. A moment later, Tony’s fingers laced through his, and he felt Tony’s lips scrape across his knuckles. He brought Tony’s hand down to the curve of his stomach and pressed it against the hard flesh there, just below his navel. Tony’s hand splayed out, fingers flexing against his skin for a moment before he stilled. “We’re going to have a baby. A _baby_ , Tony. This is a big thing, an amazing thing. You can overreact a bit. This is overwhelming for me, too.”

“You are? Gotta say, you don’t seem exactly quaking in terror there, Cap,” Tony muttered, but he kept his hand where it was, his eyes flicking back and forth between Steve’s face and where his hand cradled Steve’s belly.

“Don’t need to be scared,” Steve said quietly. “I have you to take care of me. _Us_. Take care of us.”

“I will,” Tony vowed, his eyes boring into Steve’s, the words seeming to sink into Steve’s skin and settle there behind his ribcage, beating in time with his heart. “I will. I promise.”

“I know,” Steve replied, placing his hand over Tony’s.

“Mine,” Mark Twenty-Six repeated as Steve gave it an exasperated grimace.

“No,” Tony corrected with a slight smile, his face softening, eyes going liquid. “These are mine.”


	7. Chapter 7

“I hear that congratulations are in order,” Fury said with a slight nod in Tony’s direction as they rode up the Tower elevator. Tony beamed back at him. After all, Fury had been the one to introduce him to Steve, who was his Omega and they were Bonded and having a baby, so Tony had agreed to try very hard not to throw the man again.

“Did you get the memo I sent over?” Tony asked. “It was on letterhead.”

“Well, Stark, it was a bit hard to miss since it kept popping up on any screen I attempted to access, but yes, I got your memo. Very, uh, thorough,” Fury noted, obviously impressed. “Rule Number Four is still illegal, though, and no, I don’t think just showing the jury a picture of Steve will be enough to sway them.”

“Aw, you read the footnotes!” Tony said, pleased at Fury’s attention to detail.

“So, how are you handling all of this?” Fury asked with a side-eyed glance at Tony. “No, ah, issues yet?”

“Come to check up on me? I knew this wasn’t a social call. Though, the diaper cake is a nice touch. Look, I’m fine,” Tony said quickly when Fury started to interject something that probably wasn’t related to Steve’s health or security, so was utterly useless.

“Uh-huh. I remember hearing you tell me something similar when you were down in the isolation room with Captain Rogers trying to kill one of our former operatives with an overdose of Viagra after you threw me across the room,” Fury pointed out. “You and I have different definitions of ‘fine.’”

“Well, you’re here now, and generally being annoying. Have I thrown you across the room? Yet?” Tony muttered, watching the numbers on the elevator’s screen count up. “Granted, I kind of want to just on principle and because Steve was apparently really impressed by that and the whole armor thing definitely left an impression…” Tony continued.

“Stark, you’re drifting,” Fury said after a moment of silence.

“Right, well, anyway, that was only the one time. And you’re the idiot who stepped between us when Steve was clearly my Omega and we were Bonded,” Tony reminded Fury with a disapproving shake of his head. It was really hard to remember why he shouldn’t throw the man, to be honest. It turned Steve on, whatever he might say, and Tony found it satisfying, but Fury had brought a diaper cake and that was really fucking cute. God, parenting had so many moral quandaries, he thought with a heavy sigh. “Besides, I apologized.”

“You said, and I’m quoting, ‘Sorry for denting your wall.’ You dented my wall with me, Stark!” Fury ground out. Tony shrugged. Shield’s structural integrity, or lack thereof, wasn’t really his problem. “So, given all of that, you’re really just flummoxed at why I would feel the need to check up on you?” Fury asked shrewdly. “The only person to ever receive the full benefit of Erskine’s serum is having a child with a genius, billionaire, former playboy, philanthropist who happens to have access to—what are we up to now?—thirty something weaponized armored suits? All this surrounded by a group of the world’s most powerful people, including an Alpha who turns into an enormous green rage monster when someone gets testy with him or, apparently, shorts Steve’s Thai food order by a spring roll. Yes, I pay attention, don’t pretend to be shocked. Now, what about any of that could possibly raise my concern?”

“Well, he really likes the spring rolls,” Tony protested. “How hard is it to get—okay, okay, I see that wasn’t your point,” Tony corrected quickly when Fury’s eyes went wide and smoke started coming out of his ears. Okay, not really, because you can’t smoke around Steve, and Tony thought he really would be justified in throwing someone who was smoking. Terrible habit. The city was clamping down on it, but they could really do more. He should send the Mayor a memo…

“Stark?” Fury ground out.  

“Oh, calm down Sauron, everything is under control. Really,” Tony assured him with a quick glance at Fury’s skeptically droll look. “I know you all think I’m going to go insane build some kind of a giant energy force-field around the Tower or something, which I’m not, because the energy required for something like that is astronomical and would probably blackout a large part of the city for a few—ah…You know, anyway, what I’m saying is that Steve and I have reached what we consider an acceptable compromise.   Which is what a relationship is all about, so while I appreciate your concern—well, actually, that’s not true, it’s really annoying, and I don’t want you here,” Tony amended.

“But I brought a diaper cake,” Fury reminded him drolly, holding the tiered creation aloft.

“And while I currently find that kind of irresistibly sweet, because my brain just starts screaming ‘BABY!’ at me when I see tiny people things, and I rather like imagining you ordering it, the point being, Steve and I worked things out,” Tony explained. “The team is onboard. Seriously, everyone is helping out. You have nothing to worry about,” Tony assured him as the elevator pinged open to the Tower’s common room. Steve was reclining on the sofa against a pile of pillows, Tony noted happily, and turned his head at the elevator’s ding.

“Mine,” Tony announced loudly as he and Fury walked into the living room.

“He just does that now,” Natasha said from where she was cradled in one of the overstuffed chairs. “Like a hello, only really possessive and vaguely threatening. Honestly, I kind of like it,” she said with a shrug.

“Director Fury,” Steve called out. “Good to see you, Sir.”

“Ignore him. He’s addled. I think it’s the hormones,” Tony interjected with a dubious frown.

“I’m not addled. You’re always welcome, of course, and thank you for the diaper cake. That’s so thoughtful of you,” Steve acknowledged as Fury sat the gift down on the dining table.

“You’re not, and it really isn’t,” Tony said under his breath.

“Hey, Tony,” Steve finished, voice going slightly soft as Tony grinned in response and came over to bend down, wrapping his arms around Steve’s shoulders and splaying his hands around the bump of Steve’s belly.

“Hey, babe,” Tony replied with a grin. “And baby.”

“Feel that? Think he or she likes your voice,” Steve said, smiling goofily up at Tony.

“Oh, good Lord, someone shoot me,” Clint snorted from behind the kitchen island.

“I’ll do it,” Tony offered helpfully without looking up.

“No shooting the other Avengers,” Steve admonished as he opened his book back to the page he’d been reading.

Fury was looking around the room, gaze darting from the kitchen to the sunken living room where Steve was relaxing on the sofa. He turned to Tony, opened his mouth to say something, then apparently couldn’t quite find the right words to explain just how impressed he was, so clamped his mouth shut again.

“So, yeah, like I said, we’ve worked things out,” Tony started as he placed a quick kiss on Steve’s head and stood up again, turning to survey the room.   “See, Mark 22 is on global threat assessment, 20 has air traffic and perimeter patrol, 23 and 25 have physical security, 24 is making pancakes, 30 is monitoring vitals, 28 and 29 are tasked with airborne defense, 21 is on foot rubs, 27 has long-range ballistics covered and 26 is…well, 26 is gazing adoringly, hell, I don’t know. Suit’s gone buggy. Anyway, it’s fine. Things are fine. Compromise. I’m all about it. Absolutely nothing to worry about.”

“Why would I be worried?” Fury asked very slowly, enunciating every word carefully as he stared at Tony. “Care to tell me why there’s a refrigerator in your living room?”

“Oh, that. Steve gets cravings sometimes, you know how it is. Hulk likes to bring him things. Little gifts. Nothing to worry about,” Tony assured him.

“I ask again, since I still haven’t gotten an answer: Is no one else a tad concerned that the ‘fridge isn’t one from the Tower? Because I am,” Clint shouted from the kitchen. “After the thing with the Slurpee machine?”

“Not going to say that wasn’t an awkward phone call with 7/11 corporate,” Tony admitted, shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels a bit.

“I’ve stopped mentioning things out loud,” Steve cut in. “No, thanks, 26, I’m really okay,” Steve said quickly as the armor held a pillow out to him. Rather too hopefully, Tony thought in annoyance, rolling his eyes. He’d wanted to tear the damn thing apart for scraps, but now Steve was all sentimental about it.

“Director, I’d invite you to pull up a seat for the game, but Yankee Stadium seems to have lost power again. Their season is really going to be sunk if this keeps up,” Steve observed, sounding not at all unhappy about the prospect. Fury’s eyes darted to Tony, who shrugged and mouthed ‘Compromise’ while Fury shook his head and massaged the bridge of his nose with his forefingers.

“Unfortunately, One-Eyed Willie here can’t stay, but so nice of you to drop by, completely uninvited and unannounced. Feel free to do that again never,” Tony rushed out. “Steve and I have an appointment to get to anyway.”

“I heard,” Fury replied, sounding vaguely uncomfortable, though, to be fair, that could be because 26 was tracking his movements rather intensely. “Fine. Well, I guess that’s my signal to go.”

“So soon?” Tony asked in false dismay, clutching a hand to his chest. “But this has been so much fun and not at all awkward.”

“I’m keeping my eye on you, Stark,” Fury warned as he swept, dramatically, of course, into the elevator.

“Anyone else think his boggart is all of us sitting around with nothing to do?” Tony asked the room.

“I understood that reference,” Steve said happily. “Tony, we really should get going. Don’t want to keep Bruce waiting,” Steve said as he started to push himself up off the sofa. 23 and 25 sprang into action to help. 26 clapped excitedly.   Tony sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face.

“Back off, Skynet,” Tony snapped at 26, who actually managed to look dejected.   “City College, 26, I swear to God,” Tony called out over his shoulder as he took Steve by the arm and helped lead him to the elevator.

“Don’t be mean,” Steve objected. “He’s just trying to help.” Tony rolled his eyes.

“No, the other suits are trying to help. That one is a pillow away from going all Hall 9000,” Tony grumbled. Once the doors slid shut, Tony hit the button to take them to Bruce’s lab. “How are you feeling? Everything okay? I got the readouts from 30, of course. Your blood pressure was a little high this morning, so I had 21 make sure to elevate your feet—“

“I’m great, Tony. Everything’s fine,” Steve responded reassuringly. “Did you eat something this morning? There are plenty of pancakes left over. I tell ya, 24 is really getting the hang of those. I think you’ll be able to take DUM-E off fire extinguisher duty any day now.” Steve was running a hand up and down Tony’s back in the familiar, soothing motion. “I’m fine, Tony. You really don’t have to worry so much. Bruce says I’m doing really well, and there’s no reason I can’t do most everything I did before the pregnancy.”

“Well, obviously, I know that. Just this morning, we—“ Tony began.

“I mean things other than that, though you do have a bit of a selective understanding of ‘strenuous physical activity,’” Steve said with a slight chuckle. He pulled Tony tighter into his side, continuing the rubbing motion up and down Tony’s spine. Damn Omega wiles, Tony thought fondly.

“Just want everything to be okay, you know?” Tony mumbled into Steve’s shoulder.

“It will be,” Steve promised.

“But you can’t say that! You don’t know that, not for sure!” Tony protested, straightening again. “Something—something could happen. Something could happen, and I couldn’t—Steve---I couldn’t handle it, if it did, I couldn’t…I know I get all…like this…but I just—I need to--” Tony stuttered, tripping over too many words, none of which really said what he wanted to say. “I have to protect the things I can’t live without. That’s you. You and our baby.”

“I know,” Steve said. “Shhh. It’s okay. We can handle this, Tony. I know it seems overwhelming, but we can.”

“How?” Tony demanded. “Tell me how, because every time I think about what could go wrong—all the ways I could screw this up---how are we going to do this?“

“Together,” Steve said quietly. “We’re doing this together, Tony. You and me. And I think we can handle most anything together. You’re going to screw up, and I’m going to screw up, and we are going to screw up together, probably pretty spectacularly, but as long as we love each other, we’ll figure it out.”

“You make it sound so simple,” Tony said after a moment’s pause.

“That’s because I’m in denial,” Steve replied evenly to Tony’s surprised bark of laughter. “Yep. Just embracing the fugue of denial,” Steve reiterated with a nod. “Look, I’m terrified, too, Tony,” he continued quietly, like he was sharing a secret, and maybe he was, Tony considered. “We’re going to have the responsibility of raising a child. I think that’s the only rational state of mind. But, I’m not worried about the you and me part of it, and if we get that right, we’ve got a pretty good head start on not screwing up too badly.”

“You do say the most romantic things,” Tony teased, eyes dancing, as the elevator doors slid open, emptying them into Bruce’s lab.

“Hey, you two!” Bruce called out. “How’s it going today?”

“Everything’s great,” Steve replied. “Uh, absolutely no cravings. Zero. And the Thai food place even sent extra spring rolls this time.”

“Well,” Bruce said, a chagrined expression tightening his features. “That’s something, I guess.”

“You’re using your powers for good,” Tony agreed, slapping Bruce on the shoulder with one hand. “What? Steve really loves those spring rolls.”

“Not going to say I’m not absurdly happy about that,” Bruce admitted. “Okay, so no more nausea then? Cramps or muscle spasms?” Bruce asked, going down his checklist of questions as Steve shook his head. Weight and blood pressure checks were next, then Steve hopped up on the exam table and lifted his shirt up, shifting down the elastic waist of his pant so it sat low on his hips. Bruce took out the ultrasound transducer and a tube of gel, which he squirted liberally over the round curve of Steve’s stomach.

Steve jumped a little, then looked at Tony a little nervously. “Cold,” he said with an embarrassed laugh. Tony reached out and took Steve’s hand, lacing their fingers together.

“Sorry,” Bruce said. “So, this is a 4D ultrasound. No surprise, only the best,” Bruce continued with a slight grin. “You should get a good image,” he promised as he began to maneuver the wand around Steve’s stomach. “Okay, seriously, you’re going to have to stop that,” Bruce objected after a moment, glaring at Tony from where he sat on the stool next to the exam table while Tony looked at him blankly. “Look, I have to touch him with the transducer to do exam, so you’re going to have to stop hitting my hand away, okay? Please?”

Tony looked at Steve, who was biting his lip trying not to smile. Steve gave a slight, apologetic-looking nod of acknowledgment, and Tony sighed, then slipped his other hand, which apparently had a mind of its own, over the hand already clasping Steve’s. “Fine,” Tony grumbled.

“Oh, and its fine for here, but when you actually go to the hospital for the birth, you have to put Steve’s actual name on the paperwork, not ‘Tony’s Omega,’” Bruce told him.

“How about—“ Tony started, because he was all about compromise.

“Or ‘Mine,’” Bruce added. Tony frowned, but clamped his mouth shut. “You can draw a heart around his name if it makes you feel better,” Bruce offered with a smirk.

“Fine,” Tony muttered in agreement. Technically, Bruce hadn’t specified how big a heart.

“Alright, here we go,” Bruce said, rubbing the transducer over Steve’s stomach. Tony and Steve turned to watch the large screen opposite the exam table with rapt gazes. Tony could feel Steve’s hand clutch at his own, the grip almost painful, though he doubted Steve even knew what he was doing. On the screen, a bright, golden curve appeared against a darker background as Bruce moved the ultrasound around to the side of Steve’s belly. “There,” Bruce announced, his voice quiet and filled with awe. “There you go. That’s your baby.”

Oh.

_Oh_.

It’s smiling, was Tony’s first thought, and it was such a strange, forceful thought, almost surreal, but more real than any thought that had come before it. There was a person there, a real person, smiling, one fist curled up against a cheek, eyes closed as if in sleep. A heartbeat flickered rapidly in its chest, and the toes on one foot were curled. As he watched, the foot stretched out, like it was tracking the press of the transducer, and he thought that if he touched Steve’s stomach there, he could feel the press of his child through only the thin membrane protecting it, and it was such a real, present sort of thought, not the kind that usually flittered across his brain, numbers and schematics or the more mundane, everyday thoughts that you have. This one…this one had power behind it, weight. It grabbed on and held. Mine, he thought, and heard a choked sob that he realized came from him. He looked at Steve, found blue eyes bright with tears, hands grasping for Tony’s.

“Look, Tony. Look,” Steve said in wonder, as if Tony needed to be told, but maybe Steve just needed to say it. “It’s our baby, Tony. Our baby. Look at that. Wow. Wow,” he repeated, blinking back the emotion.

“Want to know the sex?” Bruce asked softly.

Steve looked at Tony, who shrugged. He wanted to know everything about this person that was theirs, but it was Steve’s call. Steve nodded his acquiescence to Bruce.  

“Girl,” Bruce announced with a broad smile. “See,” he said, pointing to the screen. “Well, I’ll leave you two for a bit,” Bruce said. Or probably did, Tony wasn’t really paying him any attention, but Bruce pushed the stool back and got up, giving them a quick nod before he walked to the other side of the lab.

“Girl,” Steve repeated. “A girl.”

“Got any names you want to share? Can’t keep calling her ‘Bump,’” Tony whispered, almost reverently. His cheeks were wet, he noticed, and ran a hand over his face.

“Jaymes,” Steve replied firmly. “With a ‘Y,’” he grinned. “Jaymes Maria.”

“Jaymes Maria, huh?” Tony repeated. “She’s beautiful. Perfect. God, look at her. Amazing. You’re amazing. She—God, Steve, she’s ours. She’s—I don’t even know what to say—she’s---she’s—“

“Happiness,” Steve interjected. “This,” Steve said, wrapping an arm around Tony’s shoulders and pulling his head down to Steve’s chest. “This is happiness.” Tony breathed out a long sigh against the pounding of Steve’s heartbeat echoing in his ear.

“I knew that a long time ago.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has been so supportive of this series. I truly appreciate every comment and kudos. I hope you have been entertained with this little slice of insanity. It is such fun to write them as just ridiculously happy and in love. 
> 
> As for any more in this 'verse, I honestly have no idea. I always find the getting together fics tend to be a lot more popular, which makes sense. I don't know how much writing I have left in me, anyway, though I will finish everything in progress, I promise. Thank you again to those of you who have offered encouragement throughout this process. I am deeply humbled, and hope you found this sequel an entertaining addition (even if just the armor porn...come on, you know you loved that!).


	8. NSFW Fanart by maxkennedy24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Absolutely gorgeous artwork done by maxkennedy24. Find more of their work and info about commissions on their tumblr at maxkennedy24.tumblr.com.

[](https://www.cweb-pix.com/image/LHGX)


	9. Fanart by dksartz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Come on, Steve, eat something...going to be a looooooong weekend! *snort* 
> 
> Adorable fanart by dksartz.tumblr.com.

[](https://www.cweb-pix.com/image/LHGV)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not quite sure what I'm even doing with this one. Thoughts and wishlists are appreciated and will probably be totally cribbed and mangled into something that resembles a plot, but with lots of anatomically impossible sex.


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